


Barrio Slums and More

by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Domestic Violence, Gay Keith (Voltron), Klance Week 2017, M/M, Mexican Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney/pseuds/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney
Summary: Being a first generation college student is an honor for Lance. An honor for his family.Until he loses his scholarships and has to drop out. Now, Lance has to return home and admit that despite his efforts, he may be nothing more than what was expected of him in the slum streets of Houston, Texas.Working two jobs with his family to earn money and find a way to make it up to them, Lance reunites with an old high school classmate. After a misunderstanding leads to a dinner, a friendship begins filled with late night drives, Spanish lessons, and laughter.It will be a summer filled with secrets, adventures, struggles, and hope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The bottom link takes you to my tumblr.

Stupid big corporation economy. Stupid private schools with stupid unreasonable tuitions. Stupid Lance for thinking he could handle it. 

All he’d wanted was to make his family proud. To be a good example for his siblings and younger cousins in comparison to the dead beats his older cousins had become. He wanted to show them it was possible to go out and explore the world and get more than their shitty neighborhood in Houston slums. That it was good to dream big and go for what you wanted. That they were more than the stereotype. 

They weren’t just meant for a hand-me-down mechanics shop, housecleaning, gardening, and street-vending. They were meant for more. They could be astronauts, doctors, lawyers, writers, anything. 

“ _Lance!”_

The angry booming voice of his grandfather pierced through his regret as he cleaned the dishes at his tia’s restaurant. It was almost bankrupt, and hardly anyone came in, especially with the location. It was hidden, and it looked shabby on the outside. A ditch by the parking lot, and potholes littered across the parking lot like polka dots. A phone booth that was half knocked over and covered in graffiti stood nearby. It was a miracle his tia had managed this long. 

“Don’t worry, _mijito,_ ” she would say. “As soon as this goes down, I’m opening my salon.” Lance never tried to mention the lack of money that would diminish that dream. 

“Yes, Papo?” he answered, scrubbing the plates more fiercely. 

“Don’t forget to stop by the shop later so we can fix your mother’s car.” He nodded and delved into the dishes again. 

“ _Lancito,”_ he heard his tia Carla croon. “Go wait that table please, honey, I have some bills to look over. I’ll finish those or Dianita will.” 

“Okay,” he mumbled. He didn’t mind working. It was more the fact that everyone thought he was working the restaurant and the mechanic shop for summer money. They had no idea he was here for good. That he was stuck. That he’d failed. 

He walked out to the tables, wiping his hands on his apron and grabbed the tray of drinks he assumed were theirs since they were the only table occupied. “Sweet tea?” he asked. A guy with a weird white streak in his hair waved. “Soda?” A heavyset guy with tribal tattoos along his arm and a child with wide glasses raised their hands dismissively. “And this is yours then,” he said, setting down the lemonade in front of a boy with long hair pulled into a low ponytail. Several strands fell forward regardless. “Ready to order?” 

[[MORE]]

The guy with a white streak looked around and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. You gonna jot it down?” 

“I have a good memory,” he said, hugging the tray.

“Okay,” the guy smiled. “I’ll take the burger with everything.” 

“I want the Pirata plate. No onions,” tribal tattoo said. 

“I’ll take the breaded steak thing,” the kid said. “I’m not sure how you say it.” 

“Milanesa?” Lance offered. The kid nodded and handed over the menu. “What about you?” 

“Um. I guess I’ll have the enchiladas.” He glanced up and gave the menu to Lance, causing Lance to hesitate. He knew this guy. He knew the voice, and the eyes which were such a dark blue, they were almost purple. He’d never seen eyes like those before or since. “What?” he snipped. 

“Keith?” he questioned. 

“Do I know you?” he answered, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“No probably not. I went to high school with you. So it’s been a little over a year.” 

“Oh. Well, sorry I don’t remember.” Lance shrugged and turned away to put their order in.

He returned later with their food, watching enviously from the cash register as the group laughed and joked as they ate. The kid was apparently one of their nieces and they’d gotten lost when they found the restaurant. They seemed to like the food though. Everyone liked Tia Carla’s food. 

Lance stopped by the table enough times to show he was aware, but not enough to make small talk with an old classmate and embarrass himself for his failures. Still, as he watched them, he found his eyes returning to Keith again and again. 

He noted how he laughed, how he chewed, how his eyes would roll when the guy with tattoos said a joke. Keith. Keith from high school. Lance had always had a sort-of-mini-crush on him. Usually from afar. He knew of the guy, but he’d never actually known him. He was in the crowd of people that were cool without knowing it. That kept to themselves but the entire school seemed to revere them. Lance was part of the nerds, placing at the top percent of his class. If anyone knew him, it would be, Lance, rank 3, the guy who pantsed Coach Reyes on Senior Prank day and almost didn’t walk. 

No one knew how much he’d begged and even cried with the principal to let him graduate after that. No one knew how he spent nights getting three hours of sleep because kids at home needed help with homework and all the adults were working, and Lance was the unfortunate one who was old enough but not too old with his own life to babysit. No one knew that his lame jokes in his AP classes were just to cover for the fact that he was fighting tooth and nail for that spot as valedictorian or even salutatorian. 

Still, he’d come short, and remained number 3. It helped that he’d still gotten into the college he wanted. It didn’t help that he’d gotten put on academic probation then kicked out. 

Before he knew it, the group of guys and the kid were leaving, the bell jingling as the white-haired one fell back to pay his tia. Meanwhile, Lance went to clean up the table. There was no tip. Go figure. He rolled his eyes and pulled the dishes into a tub, whipping out a wet rag to wipe the table down. 

Suddenly, his elbow hit something and he heard a soft, “ow.” He turned, surprised to see Keith there. “Um, we forgot the tip. Uh. Here.” He held out a five dollar bill and a few ones. “Pidge did the math, so… I don’t really know what…. Yeah.” 

“Right. Thanks. Sorry for the elbow nudge.” 

“No worries.” He looked at him, with his strange indigo eyes and Lance tried to think of something witty to say. But ever since he’d gotten out of school, he hadn’t had the energy to be a jokey flirt. “See you around, Lance from High School.” Lance managed a smile and Keith walked out. 

Lance pocketed his money and finished cleaning the table. He knew his tia was looking at him from where she was at another table, calculating unpayable bills. He ignored her. 

He went to the back and got rid of his apron and ran a hand through his hair. “Gotta go Tia,” he called, grabbing his keys. “Papo’s waiting.” She nodded and he kissed her cheek on his way out. He went to his bike, unlocking the security rope and started for his home. It was only a few blocks away, but with the summer sun beating down on him and the humidity, his shirt was sticking to his back by the time he reached the corner where Papo’s mechanic shop was. 

“I’m here,” he called. “Papo?” 

“Over here,” he called. “Your mother’s not here yet. We have that other car though. It needs a tire change. And the motorcycle there needs an oil change.” 

“Where’s Beto?” Lance asked, as he threw a torn shirt over his shoulder for oil smears. His older cousin was supposed to help in the mechanic shop too. His grandfather huffed and went off on a Spanish cursing tirade, so Lance regretted asking. “Don’t worry, Papo, I got it. Your grandson has mad skills, yo.” His grandfather raised a bushy eyebrow at him and shook his head. 

“How was college? You don’t talk about it. What are you studying?” Lance felt his heart fall to his stomach and turned to the car that needed a tire change. 

“You know. Usual. Lots of tests, lots of papers, cute girls that don’t know I exist.” 

“Lance,” he began. 

“I know, Papo. College is not for dating. I’m there to make a better life. I can date when I graduate. I know.” _If I graduate,_ he thought. He had the sudden realization that maybe he was damned to this. A life of fixing cars and waiting after people who had better lives, all the while being invisible and tired and the only one trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. 

With that in mind, he set to work on the tires and moved on to the motorcycle, humming along to the music that came from his grandfather’s radio. “Hello?” he heard. “Anyone here?” Lance expected his Papo to answer. “Hello?” the person shouted louder. Lance frowned and turned away from the motorcycle to answer. “Oh. It’s you again.” 

Lance almost hid. “Yeah,” he chuckled instead. “What’s up?” 

Keith shoved his hands in his pocket and gestured to a small Nissan Altima. “My car keeps stalling. I’m freaked it’ll leave me stranded, and I was hoping to get it fixed.” Lance nodded and walked over to the car, wiping sweat off his forehead and fanning his shirt. “So… you work here too?” 

“Family business,” he answered, opening the hood. “Well the coils are loose, so that could be the problem.” He pulled the coil off and frowned. “This thing’s old, so you’ll need new ones. Ours are cheap in comparison to anywhere else, but it’s still kind of pricey,” he said. He shut the hood and looked over at Keith. “We can pull it in though, be sure that’s your only problem.” 

Keith looked like he was suppressing a smile and failing. Lance felt his guard go up, but then Keith said, “You uh… you have a grease stain on your face.” Lance grimaced and wiped his face, but Keith groaned. “That made it worse. Here.” He took the rag in Lance’s other hand and hesitated before wiping his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose and his forehead. “There you go.” He gave the rag back and stuffed his hands in his pocket. 

Lance was too flustered to speak, just stared at the rag. “So, how much?” Keith asked. 

“I’ll get you the coils free. For… not letting me walk around like the idiot with oil stains,” he answered with a smile. Keith looked like he’d protest and Lance held up a hand. “Seriously. If anything else is wrong with it, my grandpa can charge you for that. I’m saving you like twenty-five bucks, man.” 

“Alright,” he finally gave in. He bit his lip and looked at the garage shop. “I don’t have anywhere to go, so can I stay here? Even if you don’t work on my car right away, that’s cool.” Lance shrugged and nodded.

“I’ll get the tow to pull your car in to the lift.” Lance walked away, feeling strange jitters in his stomach. Keith was at his shop and needed Lance to fix his car. In a way, he felt the universe was just telling him his place. He was less than the people he knew. He was the worker. 

But there was also a part of him that wondered if this was an opportunity. Keith wanted to stay. Keith wanted his help. 

He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and tried not to pay too much attention to Keith as he brought the car in and returned to the motorcycle. As he finished, his papo came back and Lance heard him gruffly ask Keith if he needed help. 

“I got it, Papo,” he said, wiping his hand on his jeans. “Just making sure it runs okay. Where’d you go?” 

“Phone call,” he said. “Your mother will be in soon.” Lance nodded.

“Go inside, Papo. It’s hot.” His grandfather mumbled, but he went back into the shop with his weathered hands and hunched back and scraggly facial hair that all told the story of his age. He looked at Keith and winked. “See? No mention of coils.” Keith rolled his eyes and looked away. 

Meanwhile Lance popped the hood on Keith’s car again, making sure there was nothing on top that needed to be fixed before peeling off his sweaty shirt and rolling under the car to check the rest. Suddenly, he heard a sharp squeal. 

“ _Ay, mijito,_ you will never believe _el chisme_ I got today! _Donde estas?”_ Lance hit his head on the bottom of the car as his automatic reaction to his mother’s squeals was to sit upright in fear. 

“Down here, Ma,” he said, rolling out. He saw Keith’s eyes look at him and Lance looked down to remove any other smears he may have gotten. “How was work?” he asked.

She was dressed in everyday clothes since her boss didn’t mind what she wore to clean her three-story house and pool. She had tired lines along her face that made her look older. “Same as always,” she said. She kissed his cheek and scrunched her nose. “ _Dios mio,_ you stink.” She final seemed to notice Keith and she smiled at him. “Hi, I’m Maria,” she greeted. 

“Keith.” 

“Well, hello Keith,” she said with a sly smile that made Lance nervous. “Listen, Lance just got back from college last week, and we’re having a big dinner-”

“Ma,” he interrupted. But she was relentless. 

“We have so much food, it’d be wonderful if you could join.” 

“Ma,” he said again. “I’m just fixing his car.” 

Keith hesitated, and that seemed to be enough for his mother to keep pressing. “But look at him! _Esta muy flaco,_ he needs to come! I’m not taking no for an answer.” She patted Lance’s cheek and exaggeratedly fanned her face as she cursed the heat and walked in to see her father. 

“I hope she said I was cute,” Keith mumbled. 

“Close. She said you’re too skinny.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to come.” In fact, he preferred Keith didn’t. Lance had planned to explain to his family how he’d massively failed them at dinner, and the last thing he needed was Keith there. 

“I don’t mind. If it’s as good as the food at the restaurant, I’m game.” Lance chuckled, but inside, he was screaming. “So is my car okay?” 

“Oh, yeah.” He turned back and gestured to it. “I cleaned some gunk off and refilled the water. Added a little antifreeze. And the coils are secured and tight. Go ahead and turn her on.” Keith got into the car and the it purred beautifully. Lance shut the hood and patted the car. “Atta girl.” 

Keith shut it off and got out smiling. “Shit. Thank you so much. What do I owe you?” 

“You’re going to deal with a family dinner. You owe me nothing. I owe you. My soul.” Keith laughed and grimaced as he reached forward and touched Lance’s forehead. “Ow!” 

“That looks like it hurts.” Lance had nearly forgotten he’d hit himself on the car. “Sit. Do you have a first-aid kit?” 

“Ah, my mom just puts Vicks on it,” he said. But Keith just looked at him and Lance pointed. “Under the register.” 

Keith returned with the kit and began fussing over him. “You have car fingers. I have healing fingers.” Lance snorted and shut his eyes as Keith cleaned his bump and put an ointment on it. He kept his eyes closed, not noticing when Keith’s eyes drifted to his lashes, to the slope of his nose, and parted his lips as his eyes fell to Lance’s. He didn’t notice the staggering breaths and the nervous way Keith licked his lips as he looked at Lance’s bare torso, unfazed by sweat and grease that clung to his dark olive skin. “There.” 

Lance’s eyes opened and he smiled. “Thanks, Mullet.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Come on dude. It’s not the 80’s.” Keith scoffed and nudged him. 

“So college, huh? I take it you left Houston?” 

Lance’s smile faltered and he walked away from Keith, airing out his shirt before tugging it back on. “Yeah. But I’m back.” 

“I bet your family’s proud,” Keith offered. 

But Lance wouldn’t look back at him. “Yeah. They all say so. I’m the first to go,” he said. “Dinner’s at eight if you actually plan on going. I won’t charge you for the car.” He turned away and started working on his mother’s car without acknowledging Keith anymore. 

  


_[Click Here for Ch. 2](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162569932232/barrio-slums-and-more-ch2) _


	2. Chapter 2

[Click Here for Chapter 1](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162562302787/barrio-slums-and-more)

_Let me know if you need translations! – Feedback appreciated!!! – edits and fanart too!!!_

_  
_

Watching everyone rushing to make food and set the table couldn’t be more painful. Lance felt like he was falling apart and he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t bring himself to disappoint them. 

He’d rehearsed so many times. As he worked on his mom’s car, as he showered, as he got dressed, and as he watched. But it never made it easier. Not once, did it feel like he could tell them without bile rising up in his throat. 

His little cousins were running around the adults, being ushered out to the front yard, but they were too hyped to listen. Suddenly, his cousin Lily shrieked and began bawling. “Guys, give her back her doll,” Lance scolded the two twins that were her older brothers. “You know how she gets, and unless you want me to tell Tia Carla what you did-”

“Ugh, Lance you’re the same as before you went to college,” Jose grumbled, tossing back the doll. 

“Just go back to college,” Jesus, the other, muttered, sticking his tongue out. They ran out, screaming after their other cousins. 

Lance sighed and mumbled, “Wish I could, buddy.” He went to be sure the kids weren’t fighting. The boys were running, and the girls were playing with dolls. Until Lance’s brother, Miguel, decided to pull their cousin Rosa’s pigtail and began a gender war of tag. He shook his head and turned back to look at the house. His tios were drinking, claiming to toast to them. His tias and his mom were cooking, gossiping in Spanish. His Papo was asleep on the couch with a cup of soda in his hand. His buela was cleaning, setting out a new mantel for the table. 

It was too much. It was way too much. Despite the humid heat, Lance left the house and went to the back where the dogs were. At his Papo’s house, they had a chicken coop. Lance hated those chickens. He could still hear the shrieks of laughter and anger from the kids in the front, but from where he stood, Lance could close his eyes and pretend that it was a normal day. That he wasn’t about to drop the worst news in months to his family. That he wasn’t about to explain what a failure he was, and how he didn’t deserve anything they were doing for him. 

He could pretend he had never gone to college, that it was last summer and he was filled with hope to envision all the possibilities the future would bring. He was still Lance, the jokester, the fun cousin, the fun brother, the troublemaking son, the smart one. 

“ _Lance!”_ one of his tias called. “Your friend is here!” Lance frowned and went inside, surprised to see Keith at his front door with his tios and tias and mother and buela surrounding him, inviting him, offering things, asking him questions. 

[[MORE]]

“Oh God,” he muttered. He interceded and made his family back off. “Come on. I’ll introduce you, but you don’t have to remember.” He gestured to his uncles. “That’s my tio Angel, my tio Selso, and my tio Ramon. Tio Angel is my mom’s brother. Tios, this is… my friend, Keith.” Keith waved and shook each of their hands, refusing the beer they offered. “That’s my Papo, you met him.” 

“Won’t that glass fall?” he questioned. 

“No. He always falls asleep with a cup of something in his hand.” He pointed. “That’s Buela Prudencia. I call her Buela.” He took Keith to the kitchen and pointed. “Mom at the stove. Tia Carla’s dicing, she’s the restaurant owner. Tia Lourdes. They’re Mom’s sisters.” He coughed and gestured to Keith. “This is my friend Keith. Please don’t smother him.” 

“ _Cabron,”_ his tia Lourdes said with a swat of his arm. “Hi Keith, it’s so nice to meet you.” Keith smiled nervously and nodded. “I hope you’re hungry.” 

“Very,” he said. 

Lance hurried him out and pointed to the kids. “My sisters, Emily, Jackie, and Alexia. My brother Jorge. I call him Bobo. The twins, Jose and Jesus belong to tia Carla with my cousin Lily in the pigtails. The other kids are tia Lourdes’ kids. Rosa, Diana, the girls. Ricky and Victor, the boys. And the other little boy there is my tio Angel’s kid, Saulo.” 

“That’s… a lot of kids.” 

“And it’s just the little ones. I have older cousins, but I pretend they don’t exist.” He shrugged and gestured him back inside. “Dogs are in the back. Quique and Luna.” He sat down on the bench outside. “So… why are you here?” he asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…. You don’t remember me from high school. You don’t know me at all, but you agreed to have dinner with my family. All I did was wait your table and fix your car. Why are you here, what do you want?” 

Keith frowned and crossed his arms as he looked out at the road. “Food, I guess. Look, I got invited, so I came. You want me to go?” He almost said yes. But he wasn’t sure how to explain that to his family either. Besides, if Keith stayed, then maybe Lance wouldn’t have to tell his family he dropped out. “Do you?” he asked. 

Lance looked at him and felt his cheeks warm. “No. Not really.” Keith took a breath and nodded as he slumped in his seat and kicked at the ground. “I’m just… dealing with stuff right now.” 

“It’s cool,” he said. “You want to talk about it?” 

Before he could answer, his tia Carla came barging out and screaming. “ _Ya esta la comida! Vengan a comer!”_ Keith and Lance had both cringed as she went back in. 

Keith looked over at him. “I take it dinner’s ready?” Lance nodded and nudged him before standing. They walked in and Lance found himself sitting across from Keith. The kids were on one end of the table and his aunts and uncles sat around him. At the head of the table were Papo and Buela. 

Everyone began serving themselves from the food available in large dishes along the center of the table. Before they could all really dig in, Lance’s mother stopped them. “Wait, wait! _No toquen esa comida, werquitos!”_ The kids stopped midbite. “We can’t forget who this is for.” Lance gulped and felt his chest constrict. “ _Mijo,_ ” she said proudly. “My little boy, all grown up. Back from college. The first of all of us to go. You’re leading a better life, _mijo,_ which is all I could’ve ever wanted for you. You’re the best role model for your siblings and your cousins. And I love you so, so much.” Her voice broke and Lance already felt his tears spilling over. And she wrapped him into a hug and smoothed down his hair. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I know you hate when I get like this, but I’m just so proud of you.” She hugged him tightly and Lance was grateful because if she hadn’t, everyone would’ve seen how hard he was shaking. “Don’t cry. We don’t want your friend to get uncomfortable.” She kissed his forehead and sat back down. “Okay, eat!” she said with a teary smile. 

Everyone lunged for the food except for Lance. He was trying to stop the guilt from eating him. It took a swift kick from Keith under the table for him to start piling food onto his plate. He picked at his food and ate as everyone around him started their questions. 

“So what are you studying? Will it get you a good paying job?” 

“When do you graduate? When can we get tickets?” 

“Is it true that the parties are crazy?” 

“Remember, you have to stay focused on school, no girls.” His tia Carla nudged him and winked on the other side of him, as did his mother. The women in the family were far more understanding. 

“I just knew you’d get this far, _mijo,”_ Buela said. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, everyone listened. “You’re going to _be_ somebody, Lance,” she said certainly, breaking Lance’s heart further. “ _Dime,_ were your teachers impressed? You were number three in school here. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were number one when you graduate.” 

“And speaking of graduating, we need to start saving if everyone’s going to go.” 

“What about after graduation? What are you gonna do? Tell me you’re not just gonna live here again. You got out for a reason,” one of his uncles said. 

Lance kept his mouth full of food he couldn’t eat just to keep from answering. “What about you, Keith? Do you go to college?” his mother asked, finally removing the focus from him. 

“Uh, yeah- yes, ma’am. I go to the community college. I want to transfer to a university for my junior year. Community college is just cheaper right now, which is what I need.” 

“Lance here is at a _private_ college,” his papo bragged. “He got scholarships.” 

“That’s really good,” Keith said with a sincere smile. 

“ _Una porra pa’ el futuro licenciado!”_ A cheer for the future graduate.

“Stop,” Lance choked. 

“ _A la vio, a la vao!”_

_“_ Stop,” he said a little louder. But he couldn’t compete with his family’s roar. 

“ _A la bim-bom- ba!_ Lance! Lance!” 

“ _I got kicked out!”_ he shouted, standing, silencing them. He stared at his plate, unable to breathe. “I’m not in college,” he croaked. “I messed up. I’m just another drop out.” He swallowed and felt his tears slide down his face. “I’m sorry.” 

He turned away before he could break completely, before the shouting could start, before his mother’s or his buela’s crying could start. He couldn’t look at any of them. He left the house and prayed that no one followed him. He sat on the steps and felt sobs rack his body. 

He hadn’t even heard when someone walked out behind him, until they were sitting beside him. “Want to go somewhere?” Keith asked. 

Lance wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why are you here?” he hissed. “Just go.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Then, “I remember you. From school. You were the guy that pantsed Coach Reyes.” Lance shut his eyes and scowled. “And then you cried for a half hour outside of Principal Miller’s office. But when you got called in, you stopped, and you took a breath and you went in. You were in there almost all period. Then you came out, eyes red, smiling. I’d have thought you were high if your nose hadn’t been running.” Lance looked over at him and furrowed his eyebrows. Keith looked at him. “I was in the office that day. I was an office aide and… I guess you hadn’t seen me. But I’d heard of you, and you’d never been in the office before so….” Keith scooted closer. “I’d always wanted to talk to you, but… you were so smart I didn’t think I could without sounding stupid. You just… you had your life made. Teachers respected you. I was the kid teachers glared at because they thought the phone ringing was mine. It was theirs.” 

Lance scoffed and shook his head. “Why would you want to talk to me?” he muttered. 

“It seemed like you were the only one who wasn’t trying to get laid or high. You were one of the few nice enough with actual goals in your life.” 

They heard the increase of shouting inside and muffled arguing. “Where should we go?” Lance asked, unable to sit there and listen to his family fall apart because of him. Keith twirled his keys and nudged him as he stood and walked to his car. 

Lance followed without looking back and slid into the passenger seat.

**

Keith drove with ease. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the door as he chewed on his nails. He leaned back, his head against the window. “So, this is a stupid question, but… why didn’t you tell them?” he asked once they’d driven nowhere for a while. 

Lance hugged himself and rubbed his head. “You heard them. I was the one who got to leave, first-generation student, I…. I was the role model. And then I went and fucked it up.” 

“How did that happen?” he asked. There was no judgement in his voice, no pity. Just curiosity. 

“I couldn’t keep up. Aside from scholarships, I had to work for the money. I kept missing work, which was fine at first… but after a month, my professors weren’t so sure I was being honest. So I started slipping. And then I lost my scholarships and… I couldn’t keep going without offering the devil my soul.” He leaned against the window. “I dropped out in March. And I’ve been crashing with different friends, working to pay them back for letting me stay, and pretending I was still in college. I wanted to tell them, but… I was so fucking scared. I don’t want to disappoint them. I didn’t want them to know that all my dreams were for nothing.” 

“Dude,” Keith interrupted. “You talk like… like you can’t try again. Get more scholarships and get in another if not the same college. Write a killer essay about why you fucked up before and get back in. Online classes. You’re not a deadbeat or a failure for messing up. You’re only a failure if you don’t bother trying again.” Lance stared at him and sighed. “You can’t give up on all your dreams just because it got shitty. That’s when you fight most, and prove you deserve to get what you want. It’s not gonna get handed to you all wrapped in a nice bow.” 

“Oh what you think that’s how life is? You think I’m making excuses?” he shouted at him. “You think I haven’t had to fight all my life for people to take me seriously? Everyone expected me to join a gang or knock some chick up- thank God I like boys too, it kept my mom from freaking anytime I dated- or to just inherit the stupid shop or the fucking restaurant, okay. Everyone just expects my life to be this, to be here, in this shitty part of Houston no one gives a shit about and where people show up dead in a ditch for _Univision_ to broadcast on!” He ran a hand through his hair and felt the anger make his limbs shake. “I had to fight to stay in advanced classes in each shitty low-grade public school I went to, I had to fight to be in enough extracurriculars while still getting home in time to watch all those kids, help them with homework, feed them, and still get my own done. I didn’t whine and bitch when I had three hours of sleep before a final. I didn’t care that my dad ran off when I was starting high school and left my mom with all those kids on her own, because I knew I could step up. I’m not excusing my fuck ups with my life, okay? So don’t you dare make me seem like I’m playing the victim, Keith. Don’t you dare.” 

It was quiet for a while and then Keith started laughing. Lance stared at him incredulously, but Keith just kept laughing and shaking his head. They’d parked at a What-A-Burger and the lights reflected of his violet eyes as he laughed. “I’m sorry,” he finally said through a chuckle. “It’s just…. I didn’t realize I’d wake this ferocious beast just by telling you to fight for what you want.” Lance scowled and looked away. “Hey.” He felt Keith’s hand on his arm. “I wasn’t painting you as the victim. I just… you sounded defeated. And I wanted to show you that you still had fight left in you. And you obviously do.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and Keith smiled at him. “You messed up. Fine. So try again. This was your first try. Not every kid works a bunch while going to college their first year.” 

Lance took a breath and nodded. He let his head fall back against the seat and shook his head. “I just… I can’t go back, knowing that they’ll look at me like….” He couldn’t even put it into words. But it made him want to cry nonetheless. “I disappointed them, Keith. I let them down. And I hid it for a long time, how are they going to forgive me?” 

Keith bit his lip and shrugged. “It’ll be rough for a bit, yeah. But… based on what I saw? They love you so fucking much, it’s crazy. They’ll forgive you. They’ll help you. They’ll understand. They’ll be hurt you didn’t tell them, but… they won’t shut you out. They won’t hate you.” Keith let him mull over that for a while until Lance was ready to go back. 

Instead, Lance looked over and asked, “Why’d you pretend you didn’t know me if you did?” 

Keith seemed shocked by the question. His eyebrows went up and he looked over at Lance with his mouth half-open. He grimaced and scratched his neck. “It took me a moment to place you. You were usually really loud and… obnoxious if I’m honest.” Lance scoffed. “You’re quieter. I know why now, but…. I didn’t realize it was you until I brought back the tip. And then… I just didn’t bring it up.” 

“So you remember me as the guy that pantsed the coach then cried about it in the principal’s office,” Lance said with a scoff. 

“No,” he answered, sounding shocked. “No, I…. I remember you as the guy who knew how to get what he wanted. You were crying, but… you managed to convince the principal not to give you a punishment for that. And you apologized to Coach too. Lance… I remember you as the guy with the determined blue eyes and easygoing smile that never took no for an answer and owned up to his actions.” Lance gulped and stared at Keith, feeling the familiar flutter in his stomach he used to get back in high school around him. 

“Oh,” he said weakly. They both looked out at the diner and seemed to grow smaller in the silence. Lance’s heart was beating fast, and he suddenly never wanted Keith to go away. He knew what to say, and how to make him see things differently. And Lance hadn’t met someone like that in a long time. 

“Do you… want to get food?” Keith asked softly. 

Lance shook his head, suddenly self-conscious and nervous. “No…. I think I should go home. I can’t run forever.” Keith nodded and started driving back. 

When they reached his house, he parked and asked, “Want me to get out with you?” 

“No. It’s fine. They’re my family, so I should… deal with them. Besides, half of it might be Spanish and then I’d lose you.” Keith laughed and shrugged. 

“Maybe you can teach me, then.” Lance bit back a smile at the idea of seeing Keith again if only to teach him Spanish. 

“Sounds like a plan, Mullet,” he said. “Thanks.” Keith nodded and Lance took a deep breath before he walked into the house again. 

“Where have you been, _carajo!”_ his tia Lourdes hissed, pinching his shoulder as soon as he walked in. Lance yelped, and rubbed his arm as everyone else came in. 

“There he is, the non-college boy,” one of his cousins teased. 

“Too good to be a worker like the rest of us, or what?” his tio Selso said. “Running out the door _como una marica._ ” Lance winced and was grateful when his tia Lourdes yanked his ear and scolded him. 

“Lance,” his mother said tiredly, shutting everyone up. “What happened?” 

Gathering strength, he began to explain how he ended up getting kicked out of school. He explained it all with no excuses, solely facts and kept talking even when his mother’s tears began. 

“So you just stayed at your friend’s like some kind of beggar?” she cried. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“Because I didn’t want to let you down!” 

“Oh, that worked out great, didn’t it?” his brother muttered. Lance couldn’t even bring himself to punch him. 

“So you have us making you this big dinner, celebrating you, and you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“I wanted to,” he began. But the look on her face, and on his grandparents’ faces silenced him. “I’m sorry. I messed up. But I can try again. Apply again, get scholarships again, explain what happened.” 

“You think they’ll give you anything? With the grades you finished with and the way you dropped out? You had your high school grades and rank going for you before. Now, you have nothing!” Lance tried not to show how much his mother’s words hurt him. 

“Ma, I’m not giving up,” he whispered. She clenched her jaw and stared him with watery blue eyes. 

“ _Oye, pues no somos una familia?”_ Tia Carla said. “We’re Mexicans. We don’t give up. We don’t just sit back. And as a family, we support each other.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “We have the restaurant. We have the shop. Lance can make the money he needs. And we can help him. I have Beto’s college fund that he never used.” 

“Tia, you want to open your salon-”

“ _Callate, chingado,”_ she hissed at him. Lance promptly shut up. She looked at the others with a ferocity he’d always admired in her. “We’re not letting him deal with this alone. Not after all these years. He wants to fight. God knows Beto didn’t. Did Carlos? Did Benny or Esmeralda or Vanessa?” His aunts and uncles looked down in shame at the mention of their older kids. 

Beto was always drunk, never where he should be. Carlos had died in a gang fight in high school. Benny was quiet and never called, and he worked at the gas station the next county over. Esmeralda had gotten pregnant in high school and Vanessa never wanted to go to college. She married her boyfriend and moved out, and they only heard from her on the holidays. 

“Lance is here. He’s fighting. And he needs help even if _el pendejo_ doesn’t ask for it.” Lance sighed and shook his head at his tia. “So we’re gonna help him. I don’t want any of you talking down to him because at least he’s trying! _Me oyeron?”_ They did. They had no choice but to hear her. 

“Do the dishes, Lance. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow,” his mother said. “Kids, get ready for bed.” His aunts and uncles left with their kids and his Buela and Papo stayed behind while his mom got the kids settled. 

They walked over to him and Lance began shaking his head before the money was put in his hands. “Take it,” Buela insisted, pressing the crisp hundred dollar bill into his hand. 

“Buela,” he moaned. “No. I don’t deserve it.” 

“You’re fighting. You deserve it more than anyone,” she said firmly. “You use this, and you open a savings account, and you work hard and keep putting money in it. You’re going to be somebody, _mijo._ I know it.” Lance couldn’t speak so he just nodded and pocketed his money. 

“I love you,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “And Papo, I’ll be at the shop after the restaurant every day. I’ll help you. Forget Beto.” 

“I know you will,” he said. “Be patient with your mother.” He patted his shoulders and they left. Since they lived down the street, they always walked. 

Lance did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and the table. By the time his siblings were asleep, and he’d finished cleaning, his mom was sitting at the couch with a rosary and a tissue. He walked over to her and kneeled in front of her, cupping her hands and the crisp, quick prayer slipped through her thin, pursed lips. 

“Ma,” he murmured. “Ma, look at me.” She did. “I know I messed up. I know I disappointed you. But I won’t let you down again. I’m gonna fight. Like I always do.” She blinked and nodded, pulling him into a hug. The rosary beads dug into his back, but he didn’t mind. Not when his mother was holding him, making him feel like he was five years old again.

  


_[Click Here for Ch. 3](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162596318222/barrio-slums-and-more-ch-3) _


	3. Chapter 3

[Click Here for Chapter 1](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162562302787/barrio-slums-and-more)   


[Click Here for Chapter 2](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162569932232/barrio-slums-and-more-ch2)

_Feedback appreciated– Please reblog!– Let me know if you need translations!_

It was especially hot, and Lance had gone through so many sodas, he was sure his stomach would hate him for it. But he was working hard on the cars that came in to show that he deserved the money he earned at the shop. 

A few minutes in, he heard a car pull in and was pleasantly surprised to see Keith’s car. As he got out wearing a muscle shirt and a low ponytail, he smirked. “So do you always work shirtless or do you need me to buy you some?” 

Lance looked down at his torso and started blushing. “It’s hot,” he mumbled. “But hey, if you want to buy me shirts, I’m not stopping you. In case you haven’t heard, I’m the latest charity fund with my family.” Keith raised an eyebrow and sat down on a messy bench while Lance worked. 

“Did the talk not go well?” 

“I mean yeah. My aunt stood up for me. She wants everyone to pitch in and help as I work for the money to pay. It feels like I’m a charity case, but… I also know I need their help.” 

“It’s not a charity,” he assured. “I told you they’d help.” Lance chuckled and worked on the car some more before Keith spoke again. “Um, so… about the other night. You know at the dinner…. I just… I hope I didn’t make you feel weird or anything.” 

“What?” Lance asked, feeling his heart deflate. Was this where the whole, ‘I mean you’re cool, but no homo,’ came in? “Why would I feel weird?” 

“I mean if you didn’t that’s cool, I just… hoped I hadn’t freaked you out with… you know knowing about you and stuff.” 

Lance wiped his hands on a rag and sat beside him. “Keith, you knowing about me is what helped me most that night.” Keith nodded and tugged on his ponytail. “I should thank you.” 

“You did.” Lance shrugged. “Your family’s nice.”

“Thanks.” It was awkward. God it was so awkward. What did he do now? What did he say? Did Keith even want to be here? 

After a few moments of more nerve-wracking silence, Keith said, “So were you serious about teaching me Spanish? Because, I’m definitely game for that.” 

[[MORE]]

That little question seemed like enough reassurance for now. He wanted to be there. Lance chuckled and nodded, leaning forward onto his knees with his elbows. He didn’t catch Keith’s eyes taking in the curve of his spine and every grease smear and small scar that littered his body. “Yeah. What… what do you want to learn to say?” Keith shrugged and looked around the shop. “Okay. Well, car is _carro._ ” 

“Caw-row.” 

Lane grimaced and shook his head. “No. Roll the r. _Rrr.”_ Keith chuckled at his expense. “I’m serious. And also the vowels. That a lot of what makes the Spanish language. You can’t pronounce vowels like you pronounce them in English. They’re more… open ended, I guess.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, looking at him helplessly, his cheeks even turning red, but Lance would let him believe he thought it was because of the heat. “It’s not _caw,_ it’s _cah._ And it’s not _row_ it’s _rroh._ You get it? You sort of leave your mouth open to let the word hang.” 

Keith hesitated then tried again, struggling with the right pronunciation of the vowels, but mainly stuttering over the roll of his tongue. Lance bit back his smile, but his eyes gave him away. “Stop laughing at me!” he finally said, shoving him off the bench. 

Lance landed on his ass and howled with laughter. “I wasn’t!” He stood and looked down at Keith. “It’s just… a little funny. But it’s okay!” Keith hit his shoulder and laughed. “Look, did you know that one of Mexico’s favorite singers also struggled to roll her r’s? And her most famous song? All rolls of the tongue.” He walked away, returning to the car, singing _Como La Flor_ as he danced and shimmied side to side. Even as he leaned over the car, he swayed his hips to each side and continued to sing. 

A few moments later, Keith was leaning against the car, his hand on the hood. He started trying to pronounce it correctly again and Lance looked up at him with a smile before standing upright. Without really thinking, he put one hand just under Keith’s chin, using his fingers to pucker his lips as he rolled his tongue. 

By the time he realized it, he couldn’t just pull away without making it awkward, so he repeated the roll after Keith who repeated after him with wide eyes. 

“ _Carro,”_ he finally managed through squished cheeks and puckered lips. 

Lance gulped and smiled nervously. “There you go.” He wasn’t sure what stupid thing he would have done if he hadn’t heard his papo call his name. 

He jumped and pulled away from Keith, looking for his grandfather. “What are you doing?” 

“Fixing the car,” he mumbled. “The owner said it keeps overheating.” 

Papo shuffled over and saw Keith standing by the car. “What’s he doing here?” 

“He just stopped by,” he answered, hoping Papo didn’t usher Keith away, but also slightly hoping he did. Lance couldn’t think with Keith nearby. 

“My turn signal is messing up and… I need to get new brakes,” Keith said, tugging on his ponytail nervously. Papo looked at him curiously and hummed. 

“I have to go get groceries for your buela. Stay focused,” he said in his gravelly voice. He nodded at Keith and then turned away, getting in his old pickup truck and driving away. 

Lance took a breath and returned to the car. “So. Any other words you want to learn?” 

For a while, Keith lingered and pointed at different things, asking Lance for translations. Lance pretended not to notice when he asked for the same thing more than once. He wondered if Keith had actually memorized any of it or what good saying ‘carburetor’ in Spanish would do him. 

As Papo’s truck pulled back in, Keith stood and stretched. “I should go. Your grandpa’s going to think I’m keeping you from working.” Lance chuckled and nodded. “I should probably just start stopping by when you’re not working.” 

“I’m always working. Though the restaurant might close soon, so I’ll have mornings free.” 

Keith frowned. “Why’s the restaurant closing?” 

“No business. Didn’t you notice?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows and looked away. “I’ll let you know. Um your car’s okay right?” Keith chuckled and nodded. “Okay, cool. See you around.” 

“See you, Lance from High School.” Lance smiled and Keith walked away, waving to Papo before getting in his car and driving off. 

Despite himself, Lance couldn’t stop smiling. He hummed as he worked, and suddenly, he heard Papo ask, “Is there something I should know?” 

He looked up, his smile fading. “No, Papo. Nothing.” His grandfather regarded him with tired eyes and nodded before starting on a car himself. 

Before long, Lance was home, washing away the grease stains and sweat, getting ready for bed. He hardly saw his siblings anymore and wonder how his brother was faring with them. He was the next oldest, so the weight was on him now. Lance didn’t like it, but he also knew he couldn’t live his whole life concerned with the upbringing of his siblings. 

As he cleaned his ears and scrolled through his phone, his brother knocked and leaned against the doorway. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

Jorge looked tired. And Lance felt responsible. “So that dude that came to dinner. That your new boyfriend?” 

Lance blinked and shook his head. “N-no. No. He’s just someone I knew from high school. I ran into him and Ma, well you know how she is.” Jorge nodded and started to walk away, but Lance called him back. “You doing okay, little bro?” 

“I’m fine,” he muttered. Lance frowned and looked at him. “What?” 

“I know it’s hard. Being the oldest.” Jorge rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Um… so I mean you cool with it? Me liking guys sometimes?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

Lance shrugged and picked at his nails. “Like… does it bother you? Do you even care?” 

“You’re still gonna date guys, even if I say it does, won’t you?” Lance stared at him. “So whatever.” He shrugged again. “Just don’t let shit get like last time.” Before he could throw something at his brother for cursing, Jorge disappeared and left Lance with a sense of ache and déjà vu. 

Ignoring the tug at his gut, Lance shut his door and climbed into bed. Routine would pick up the next morning. Everything would be fine. The summer wasn’t going to last forever. It was fine. 

–

The next day at the restaurant, Lance was turning himself around in the swivel stool by the register, staring at the candies placed on display. Red, white, and green coconut candy; bright red tamarind candy; empanadas filled with caramel or glazed pineapple; and marzipan. He wondered if any of them were even still good at this point. 

Suddenly the front door opened and a group of girls came in, laughing before looking around appreciatively. Lance hopped off his stool and grabbed a few menus before walking over to the table of girls. 

He laid them out when they sat and smiled. “Can I get you started on drinks or do you want some time to look at the options?” 

“Teas all around,” a girl said. 

Lance nodded and smiled. “I’ll get those right out, ladies.” He turned away and heard their conversation build in volume, but didn’t pay attention to what they said. He had no idea that his blue eyes had left each of them with rosy cheeks and that the lopsided smile had given much to fawn over, or that the low ride of his jeans had begun a topic of who could get his number. 

As he waited their table and took their order, another group came in. This one was familiar. It was Keith’s group. 

“Pidge, if you don’t hush, I’m going to break your nose,” Keith threatened halfheartedly. 

“You don’t have the balls,” she snapped back. “I’m just wondering why-”

Keith pounced after her, but the white-haired guy interceded. “Okay, children,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Come on.” He nodded at Lance who waved back at them, holding Keith’s smile. 

Lance walked over with a wide smile. “Sweet tea, sodas, and a lemonade again?” he asked. 

“You remembered that?” the tattooed guy said. Lance nodded. “Damn. You do have good memory.”

“I’m good with soda,” the kid, Pidge said. 

The white-haired guy nodded. “Yeah, we’ll get the same drinks. But hold on with the food. We have a challenge.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “We have to go through the whole menu.” 

“So… you’ll become regulars then, won’t you,” he asked, his eyes flickering to Keith. Keith smirked back at him and Lance squinted at him. He knew what he was doing. “Let me know then,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth before he turned away. 

Between the two tables, Lance was all smiles, jokes, and laughs. As the girls left, Lance went ahead and cleaned off the table, pleasantly surprised with the large tip they pooled together for him. As he cleaned up the plates, he saw one napkin with a number written on it and _Call Me!_ in round, small letters. He stared at it and frowned, glancing up at the other table. 

Keith was looking at him, but he tore his eyes away when Lance looked. Biting his lip, Lance wiped the table down and let the napkin dissolve in soapy water. He took the dishes back and came back to check on the other table. 

When he did, Pidge pushed her glasses up and tilted her head. “Based on your expression, and that of the girls that just left, one of them just left you their number.” Lance blinked as the white-haired guy hit her shoulder. “Ah! Shiro! What? If Keith is going to have us coming here all the time, we may as well be friendly.” 

“Somehow, inquiring over his date life doesn’t seem the way to do it,” the tribal tattoo guy said. 

“Actually,” she began. 

“Pidge, I agree with Hunk. Stop it.” She rolled her eyes and continued eating. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s cool,” Lance said. Something about Keith’s silence made him feel the need to add, “One did, but I didn’t even pay attention to them like that, so I threw it away.” 

“Oh, are you taken?” the tattooed guy asked. Lance chuckled nervously and shook his head. “Well, we’re having a birthday party for Shiro this weekend if you want to come.” 

“You guys don’t have to do that,” he assured. 

“No, it’s cool. Yeah, you should come. It won’t be many, just us and a feel others, but it’ll be fun. We can talk girls or guys or whatever.” Lance felt a little better about the idea when he added that. “Just think about it. It’s only Thursday.” Lance nodded and walked away, completely oblivious to Keith’s bright red face. 

As they left, Keith went to pay the check and Lance went ahead and rang him up. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “And you really don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered. He leaned against the counter. “How do you say, ‘I loved the food,’ in Spanish?” 

Lance smiled and told him, feeling his heart jump as Keith repeated it back slowly, conscious of his pronunciation. “You’ll be an honorary Mexican before you know it,” he smiled. Keith smiled and nodded. Before he left, Lance stopped him and gave him his phone. “In case I want to go to that party. I need the info.” 

Keith looked at him with his angled, violet eyes and put his number in before handing the phone back. “See you around, Lance.” Lance smiled as he left and as soon as the door shut, he heard his tia Carla shriek. 

He cowered as she nearly pounced on him and ruffled his hair. “You like him!” she cooed. “He’s cute, _mijo.”_ Lance took a breath and looked at her with flaring cheeks. “ _Ay,_ what, you think that I’m gonna run to your mother with your _chisme?”_ she asked. Lance raised an eyebrow, knowing that’s exactly what she would do. “ _Cabron, orale, ponte a lavar las vasijas,_ ” she chided rushing him into the kitchen and shoving him to the sink. She tapped a perfectly manicured finger on her chin. “You think he likes you back?” 

Lance sighed and looked at her. The only people he had to talk about boys were his aunts and his mom. He wouldn’t ever even think about telling his uncles, much less his grandparents. So he had to be honest. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think he might, but I don’t really know why he would. And then what if I’m just reading into it?” Tia Carla frowned and put a hand on her hip, looking back at the door. “Besides, I’m just here for the summer. I have to work, I don’t have time to even try to start a relationship and go on dates… and all that.” 

She looked at him with a smirk and walked away singing Grease’s _Summer Nights._

Later, at the mechanic shop, Lance half-expected Keith to show up and ask for more Spanish lessons. But he didn’t, and Lance tried to pretend it didn’t unnerve him. 

After his shower, he found a text on his phone. It was Keith. He’d messaged himself when he gave Lance his number and now he was messaging him. _You busy?_

_Not really. What’s up, Mullet?_

_That’s gonna stick isn’t it? I’mma chop it off soon._

_No don’t I’m just teasing. It’s cute._ Fuck. He sent that. He actually sent that. God, he was so stupid, so fucking stupid. 

_Cute, huh? Fine, I won’t. But just because you said so._ Lance took a deep breath and stopped panicking. _Anyway, you up for a drive? I know you gotta be up early for work._

_Yeah. Definitely. I’m in PJs though_

_Perfect._

Lance stared at his phone, feeling his heart pound through his chest and jitters flow through his veins. His entire body felt like he’d coiled himself in, reigning the energy in to keep from running around the house. 

“Would that smile have anything to do with the boy that came for dinner, and who, according to Carla, has been at the restaurant frequently?” his mom asked leaning against the doorframe. 

Lance rolled his eyes. “He hasn’t been there that much. Just twice.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “He just wants to go for a drive.” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Lance could feel the next conversation topic coming before she could speak. “God, no, Ma stop, please. It’s not like that. I promise. We’re not dating. We’re just friends.” 

“Yeah, that’s what Esme told your Tio Ramon and Tia Carla about her boyfriend.” 

“I’m not Esme, Ma.” She smiled tensely and nodded. 

“I know. Just be home before midnight, okay?” He nodded and ran a hand through his wet hair. 

He could hardly contain himself as he waited for Keith to pull up to his house. He’d expected a text or a honk. Instead, he heard the doorbell and the door opened. As Lance walked out, he saw his brother at the front door with his mom peeking from the kitchen. 

“Hey. Jorge right?” Keith greeted. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Jorge!” his mom hissed. “Keith, hello. Come in, Lance is in his room.” Lance walked out further so he could be seen. “Oh, there he is. Jorge, _vente._ ” She gripped his shoulder and ushered Lance’s brother out. “Be home before midnight, please,” she insisted before disappearing into the hall. 

Lance looked at Keith who was standing by the doorway. “I didn’t expect you to come in.” 

He shrugged. “Figured it’d be polite. Ready?” Lance nodded and Keith smirked. “Nice jammies,” he said, looking over the Ninja Turtle print of his pants. Lance rolled his eyes and followed him out to the car, feeling jittery and nervous as though it was a first date.

  


_[Click Here for Ch. 4](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162657674587/barrio-slums-and-more-ch-4) _


	4. Chapter 4

[Click Here for Chapter 1](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162562302787/barrio-slums-and-more)   


[Click Here for Chapter 3](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162596318222/barrio-slums-and-more-ch-3)

_Feedback appreciated– Please reblog!– Let me know if you need translations!_   


It was quiet. And it was awkward. Lance hated that he felt so awkward. Still, he felt that if he spoke, his voice would tremble as badly as his heart was beating. He cleared his throat nervously and leaned against the door, looking at the houses they passed by and listened to the gentle hum of the engine and the low melody of the radio. 

“Why’d your brother sound so upset?” he heard suddenly. 

Lance looked over at him and frowned. Keith was looking at the road. “I’m not sure. He’s a jerk sometimes, that’s why I like calling him Bobo.” The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flitted over to Lance for a few seconds. “So, what brought on the sudden car ride?” he asked. 

He was quiet for a moment. Then, “You know how you talk about being more than just this? About being bigger than Houston slums and whatnot?” Lance nodded, then hummed in agreement when he realized Keith wouldn’t see him. “Are you like… ashamed of your past? Like…. Do you want to be more and go off to a big university to leave it behind? Erase it?”

The question had caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected it. He wasn’t sure what he expected to be asked, but erasing his past? “No,” he murmured. “No I don’t think so. I’m proud of who I am. Of who my family is. Despite the lack of education or resources, they each did something. You know, the restaurant, the shop, and whatnot. They’re still able to throw a kickass party when needed. We’ve worked hard and that’s what our past shows.” 

“Then what is it that you want to prove by going away and being ‘more’ like you always say?” he asked. His voice was urgent, like he needed Lance to give him a foolproof answer. 

“I-I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to fit in the stereotype too. I mean, my aunts all work in salons or as waitresses besides Tia Carla who owns the restaurant. My older cousins are off who knows where. My mom has worked all her life cleaning houses, my buela used to work fields in Mexico before coming here and doing being a housemaid. Papo worked in the fields too, and he got here and has the shop. I want to show that the hard work means something. I didn’t have to work fields, so I want to keep improving where we come from. I mean, do you know how frustrating it is when you see television series or movies and any time you see a Hispanic person, they end up being a maid or a gardener or a drug dealer or a _cholo_ or some shit?” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sick of people thinking they know where my life is going just because I come from stereotypes. But I also don’t look down on my family for making an honest living.” 

He was quiet for a while again. Like he was mulling over the response. Lance didn’t expect the ride to go that way. With Keith asking questions and Lance ranting, waiting in silence until Keith spoke again. 

“At least you know who you are.” 

[[MORE]]

Lance looked over at him and stayed quiet until he parked at a curb. There was a worn path for bikers and joggers, and it led to a small bayou. Keith shut the engine off and got out. Nervously, Lance did the same. 

It was much nicer at night, though still humid. At least there was wind now to relieve the heat. And no sun to sting your skin. Though the mosquitoes made up for it. 

Keith leaned against the back of his car and Lance stood beside him, making a small circle in the thin coat of dust that covered the car. “Well, what about you?” he asked softly, the night making his words smaller and quieter. 

“I don’t know who I am.” Lance looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I mean it,” he said. “I was an orphan. I was in foster homes and when I turned 18, I was let out of the system. I stayed out of trouble so it’s not as bad as most kids. Yeah, I had a few shitty foster homes, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. But I know nothing about who I am. I know I’m Asian in some way. It’s in my eyes. But I mean, am I Chinese? Japanese? Vietnamese? A Pacific Islander, like Hunk? I’m just this pasty kid with Asian eyes and a small southern accent that… has no fucking clue where he’s from.” Lance leaned into him, pressing their shoulders together, offering a small, quiet support. “You’re lucky. You know where you’re from. You have some foundation. I have nothing.” 

The last three words were said with so much disappointment, emptiness, and defeat, it made Lance hurt for him. He kicked at the ground and looked up at the stars. “You know, one thing I’ve learned really well is that your past doesn’t define you. In your case, lack of a past, I suppose.” Keith looked at him and Lance tore his eyes from the stars in the sky to the ones in his violet eyes. “You get to make your foundation. You get to become someone without everyone else telling you who you should be because of where you’re from. Not to mention, you get to discover and experience so much more while figuring out who you are. You find what calls to you most.” 

Keith smiled and looked down for a moment before looking back up. “Optimist, huh?” 

“Sometimes.” Keith smiled at him and nodded before climbing onto his car and laying down, his eyes locked on the dark blue sky above. “Alright,” he said, climbing up beside him, laying back with his hands behind his head. “So who _is_ Keith? Let’s see. What are some things about you that make you _you?”_

Keith chuckled beside him and hummed. “I live in a one bedroom apartment. I like smoothies and ice cream a lot. My favorite color is… blue. I’ve always preferred cats to dogs, but I like dogs too. I want to go to law school, be a lawyer.” He stopped for a second, like he was debating the next thing he said. “I had a friend who was in the foster system too. He got sent to juvie for beating up his foster dad once. He found him… in his daughter’s room and he just… lost it. But the courts just saw this orphan delinquent that caused trouble wherever he went. It’s all prejudice, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured. 

“I loved debating in school. I guess it was a good thing I didn’t have to keep changing schools.” He shrugged. “I think I could be a good lawyer.” 

“You have the passion for it,” Lance agreed. “See? You don’t need ancestors to make you who you are. Or who you want to be.” 

Keith looked over at him with a serene smile, his eyes much less troubled than they had been before. If he hadn’t been so afraid to make a fool of himself, Lance would’ve leaned in and kissed him. It was so tempting. But the idea of Keith freaking out was terrifying enough to paralyze him and stop him. 

“You going to Shiro’s party?” he asked, his eyes back on the sky. “I could pick you up if you are.” 

“Yeah, I think I will. At least for a little.” Keith hummed and they laid in comfortable silence. Without realizing it, Lance fell asleep. Keith was still looking at the sky listening to Lance’s rhythmic breathing. “Keith.” 

“Yeah?” No response. Keith looked over at him, surprised to see his eyes shut and he heard the small rumble in the back of his throat that wasn’t quite a snore. But he’d said his name. He’d heard it clearly. 

Keith couldn’t blame him for falling asleep. He knew he must be tired after working so hard each day. But he didn’t want to disturb him when he seemed so calm and peaceful. 

“Keith, don’t push me,” he heard. He looked over in surprise, but Lance was still fast asleep. It dawned on him that Lance was sleep talking. Which meant he was dreaming about him. He had never heard anyone sleep talk before, but he always thought it would sound muffled and slurred. It didn’t. It was crystal clear and loud, as if he were awake. “Try the pork chop,” Lance said as he breathed out. Keith chuckled and bit his lip. Then he was quiet. 

Keith waited until it was eleven thirty and gently shook him. 

Lance opened his eyes in a panic and felt confused when he saw Keith in front of him. “Shit. I fell asleep.” 

“It’s okay. I had time to think about what you said,” Keith assured. “Want to go home? Your mom said midnight, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I should go back,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Oh man. I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Keith smiled at him like he knew something, but Lance wasn’t sure why. He got back into the car and twisted in his seat so he was looking at Keith. “So, the drive…. Did something happen?” 

Keith shrugged. “I was lonely. I guess I had an existential crisis.” 

“Well I’m glad I could help. I’m awesome at distracting people,” he said. “My cousins always said I was like, ADD or something because I’m always talking about different stuff, going on to other topics before finishing one, but I mean, it’s not too bad. When I was little, I’d start coloring then go watch TV then start a puzzle, then go back to the coloring book. It was a cycle. Plus, I could never stop talking one I started, which is why a lot of people tended to find me annoying, but it’s not my fault my brain runs at like a hundred miles an hour, you know? It’s why I hate writing. I miss words or explanations because I’m so anxious to jump to the next topic or the next idea.” He stopped and grimaced. “Crap. I’m doing it now.” 

But Keith was smiling. And he chuckled as Lance stopped talking. “Don’t worry. It suits you more.” Lance hummed. “You seem more comfortable being able to talk. Before, you know like before the dinner, you seemed… restrained I guess.” 

Lance bit his lip and thought of that. How could Keith see a difference when he hardly knew Lance? And Lance hardly knew him. But man, did Lance like him. 

Too soon, they were in front of his house and Lance was trying to figure out how to say goodbye. But instead, Keith leaned forward. Lance thought he would kiss him, but instead, Keith jut hugged him. Still, Lance felt just as short of breath and dizzy as though Keith had kissed him. “Thanks for today,” he murmured, pulling away. “It really did help.” 

Lance gulped and nodded. “Anytime.” He cleared his throat and opened the door. “Anyway.” 

“ _Hasta luego_ , Lance from High School.” Lance smiled and got out of the car. Keith’s car didn’t pull away until Lance was inside. And Lance’s smile didn’t fade, nor did his heart stop pounding until he was in bed, fast asleep. 

–

Friday morning as he cleaned the restaurant, he was humming and singing along to the station he’d put on the boombox. A few early morning customers came in and Lance’s attitude earned him a big tip. 

A little after noon, Tia Carla went up to him and smiled. “Is there a reason you’re singing all these love songs all day?” 

“They’re not love songs, just Spanish songs, Tia.” He shrugged. “Not my fault most of them revolve around being in love.” She pinched his side, and he swatted her away.

Keith and his friends didn’t come in that day. And he didn’t stop by the shop either. But he had texted him, and whenever Lance could, he responded. Keith understood that Lance was busy, so although their texts were spaced out, they kept talking. 

That night, Lance stayed up messaging him, finally able to respond quickly. He fell asleep mid-text. 

The next morning, at the restaurant, he continued messaging, grateful for the lack of customers. The shop was busy, but Lance could handle it. 

When the small Nissan Altima rolled in, though, Lance had to remind himself he was working on an engine to stop himself from rushing over. “Hey there, Grease Lightning,” Keith said as he walked over to him. “How many cars have come in today?” 

“Since I’ve been here, about ten. Mostly oil changes though.” Keith nodded. “What’s up?” 

“You still up for that party?” 

“Oh. Shit. Yeah, but… I have to shower and get ready.” 

Keith shrugged. “I can wait at your place, I don’t mind.” Lance nodded and Keith sat there, talking to him about mindless things as he continued to work until it was too dark to see and his papo ushered him home. 

As he walked in, Lance announced, “Ma? Keith is here, he’s going to wait while I get ready.” 

“That’s fine, _mijo._ Keith, you thirsty?” 

“No ma’am, thank you.” Lance hesitated and Keith smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang out with your sisters. Which is which?” 

Lance chuckled. “Jackie is the oldest. She’s the one with the birthmark on her lip. Emily is the one with too much kiddy makeup on. And Alexia is the youngest. She’s still learning English, so she communicates more through pointing and weird Spanglish.” Keith nodded and walked over to the couch, earning three simultaneous head turns. “Good luck,” Lance laughed as he left to get ready. 

By the time he was showered and dressed, he found Keith on the all fours on the floor with Alexia on his back screaming, “ _Cabito, cabito!”_ He also had on bright pink blush and messy red eyeshadow, which he assumed was Emily’s doing. 

“What the…?” 

“Zia wanted him to be a horse. And Emily promised he’d look pretty,” Jackie said. She was in fourth grade, reading a book on the couch. “Jorgie came in too, but he locked himself in his room.” She shrugged and returned to her book. 

“Zia, can I get my friend back?” he asked. She looked at him, her disheveled brown curls spilling from her braids. “ _Te doy una paleta?”_

“ _Peta? Peta! Si!”_ She scrambled off Keith and scurried after Lance while he got her a lollipop. 

When he returned, Keith was grimacing at his reflection. “I couldn’t say no to her. She has giant puppy eyes.” Lance laughed and offered him a wet napkin. 

“Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.” He nodded and disappeared. 

“He’s cute,” Jackie said, looking up at him. “Just friends?” Lance nodded. “But you like him.” 

“Keep your voice down. I don’t know yet.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled, looking back at her book. He went to the dining room where his mom was looking through a recipe book. “Ma? We’re gonna leave soon.” 

“Please don’t drink,” she said immediately. She looked up and raised an eyebrow. “You know I prefer for you to do that when you’re here with your family. Not with friends.” 

“I know, Ma,” he mumbled. 

“And please don’t be out too late.” He nodded. 

“Okay, I’m good,” Keith announced. “Ready?” Lance nodded and went to kiss his mom’s cheek. 

Before he could pull away, she placed her middle and forefinger on his forehead, then his chest, then each shoulder before lightly touching his lips; the sign of the cross. Lance kissed her hand and smiled at her. Before he and Keith could go, she said, “Wait, Keith.” She tugged him back and smiled. “Just to ease my nervousness,” she said with a smile, doing the same to him. 

Keith blinked rapidly and blushed as he did what Lance did. He seemed dazed as they went to the car. When he sat, he looked straight ahead, and Lance got slightly worried. “That was… very motherly…. It caught me by surprise. I’m not used to it.” Before Lance could ask, he said, “I’m fine.” He smiled and started driving. 

When they got to the party, Lance was relieved to find that it was just a few people as promised, and not a full blown party. They were all in a metal frame pool. “Yo, Keith!” Pidge shouted. She got out of the water and wrapped a towel around herself. “Hey Lance,” she greeted. “We busted out the pool last minute, so if you need swimwear, Shiro has some spare shorts and towels inside.” 

Lance smiled and kicked off his shoes. “Sweet.” She led them inside and offered them some shorts. Lance ducked into the bathroom while Keith went into the bedroom. By the time he’d gone back out, Keith was in the pool, slowly easing himself lower and lower. 

Without warning, Lance jumped in, splashing water all around, dunking himself into cold water that had him laughing anxiously as he came up. “Lance!” Keith complained. “Shit, that’s cold!” 

The others, already accustomed to the water, laughed and swam closer to Lance. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Shiro said. “Shiro.” 

“It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.” 

“I’m Pidge, Shiro’s niece.” 

“Hunk.” Hunk had way more tattoos now that he was shirtless, and Lance was entranced by the tribal swirls. It reminded him vaguely of Maui. 

“I’m Allura,” a girl with chocolate brown skin said with a wave. She had a slight accent, but Lance couldn’t tell if it was British or something else. 

“Lance,” he said, offering his hand to her. 

He shook his hair out as Pidge hauled in a basketball. That’s when Lance noticed the basketball net attached to the warehouse the pool was by. It was just one edge of the pool. Pidge shot the ball and it swished into the net, earning her a series of high fives. 

They went around each trying to get the ball in, but it eventually turned more into a game of who could sabotage a throw the best. Shiro was unmovable, Allura and Pidge had killer aim, and Pidge was ruthless in her attacks. 

Before long, they were all out of the pool dripping wet, scavenging for food. Shiro had managed to pull out hot dogs to grill and Allura helped heat up chili and cheese for some nachos. Lance did his best not to look at Keith’s shirtless body for long. 

Hunk piled up four hotdogs with chili and cheese and a side of chips. “He-hey, my kinda guy,” Lance said, giving him a high five. “I see your four, and I challenge you five,” he said, preparing his own hot dogs. Hunk smiled and gave him a fist bump. 

“You’re on.” 

Keith slinked up beside him and smirked. “Careful. Don’t mess with Hunk and food. He’s in culinary school, eating is a way of life for him.” Lance felt anxious with the bare skin of Keith’s torso brushing along his arm, but he didn’t show it. 

And just as expected, by the time Lance scarfed down his third hot dog, he was cramping and unable to keep eating without making himself sick. But Hunk seemed unfazed as he made another two and ate them. “Nope. Can’t. Uh-uh.” 

A pair of hands clasped his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” Keith laughed over him. Lance glanced up at him and chuckled nervously. “I’ll bring you something to drink to wash it down.” He walked away and Lance hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. If they were he hoped to pass it off as exertion from eating. 

“So… you into Keith?” Lance nearly choked on his spit as he looked over at Hunk. “I’m taking that as a yes.” 

He wiped his mouth and shook his. “Uh, no I, that wasn’t my, look, I-”

“Lance, chill. I won’t say anything.” Before Lance could respond, Keith was back with a soda in his hand. Lance too it, glancing at Hunk. But Hunk was looking at Keith, his expression unreadable. “Say guys, why not play a game of truth or dare?” 

“What are you, a middle schooler?” Pidge snorted. 

“You’re excluded,” he answered. Pidge frowned and crossed her arms. “It’d be fun.” 

“Well, I don’t see why not. If we get bored, we just go back in the pool,” Shiro said. They sat down around the table, some with food, some just wrapped in their towels. “Who goes first?” 

“Well, you’re the birthday boy,” Keith said, leaning forward onto the table. “You first. Truth or dare?” 

Lance laughed as they went around the table with the most ridiculous, albeit slightly pathetic dares. But he loved that no one was drunk or trying to disappear to have sex. He’d gone to one party in college, and it was full of people getting drunk and grinding on each other. This was nothing like that. 

“Lance, truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” he scoffed. 

“I dare you to jump from the warehouse roof into the pool,” Shiro said. Lance scoffed and stood. 

“That’s a little dangerous,” Keith said uneasily, as they all followed. 

“Please,” Lance scoffed, pulling himself up onto the roof ledge easily. “I got mad precision skills.” They watched as he stepped forward near the ledge. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, sharpshooter,” Keith called up. Lance smiled and stepped back before jumping and curling into himself, falling into the water. When he came up, he could hear the others cheering for him. 

He pulled himself out, shook his hair out, splattering them victoriously. “Okay, okay, Keith’s turn. Truth or dare?” Hunk asked. 

Keith regarded him for a moment and crossed his arms. “Truth.” 

“How far have you gone with Michael?” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Keith who was staring wide-eyed at Hunk. “Well?” 

“Yikes. On the spot,” Pidge mumbled. “That’s cold-hearted.” 

“Am I… missing something?” Lance whispered to Shiro and Allura. 

“His boyfriend,” she answered. “He’s in Waco studying neurology. He’s in summer courses, so he hasn’t come back.” 

Lance felt his stomach drop and he looked back at Keith who was gritting his teeth. He rolled his eyes and muttered. “Below the waist.” Hunk sat back and hummed. “You’re an ass. I’m not playing anymore.” 

“Back to the pool it is,” Pidge said. 

Lance started picking up his trash and Keith fell back. “Hey. You… okay?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?” He gathered the trash and put it in a bag.

Keith shrugged and gathered some trash too. “The whole boyfriend thing, I guess. Wondering if I should have told you before.” Lance hummed and continued cleaning. “Should I… have mentioned it?” 

“Oh, nah. I was actually worried that _you’d_ feel weird since I admitted the whole liking boys thing. But you like boys too, so… guess there was nothing to worry about.” Keith opened his mouth but Lance just smiled. “I’m actually a little tired from this week. My back hurts with being bent over cars and cleaning tables and stuff so… I think I’ll just head back.” 

“Oh yeah, let me just dry off and-”

“No, hey it’s cool, you’re with your friends and stuff. I can call my uncle or Tia Carla.” He shrugged and turned away before he could answer and went inside to change. 

When he came back out, he saw Hunk by the doorway. “I can drive you,” he offered. Lance didn’t reject the offer and followed him to his Jeep. “I’m sorry.” 

“You could have just told me. Instead of putting him on the spot.” 

“Felt like he kind of deserved it,” he shrugged. Lance frowned and wondered if Keith had purposely tried to lead him on. Or if he even had been at all. Maybe it had been in Lance’s head. Maybe he just let a stupid high school crush get the best of him. “Where to?” 

Lance directed him to his house and stayed quiet the whole ride there.

[Click Here for Chapter 5](http://i-write-shakespeare-not-disney.tumblr.com/post/162999756677/barrio-slums-and-more-ch-5)


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a few days since the party. Lance hadn’t messaged Keith back, and Keith hadn’t stopped by the restaurant, the shop, or the house.

Of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Tia Carla. Anytime she asked though, Lance was honest and said he didn’t know where he was, and that he was too busy to text him anyway.

Part of him felt like he was being ridiculous. Keith hadn’t done anything to make Lance think he was interested. He hadn’t tried to hold his hand, they hadn’t almost kissed, they hadn’t done anything. Then Lance would think back on their conversations. The only thing Keith had done was make a comment about his eyes. Lance had read into it.

It was more embarrassment that kept him back in the kitchen the day that Keith and his friends came in again. He tugged his cousin aside and asked her to handle the table instead. He had to promise to take her cleaning duty for the rest of his shift, but he didn’t mind.

He stayed in the back, washing dishes, sweeping, and helping the chef. He was a friend of Tia Carla who cooked when she was busy with finances. He could see the table and, he noticed Keith looking around, like he was looking for Lance. But the embarrassment and the knowledge that Keith had someone was too much for Lance to put on a brave face and go out there.

Still, as he washed the dishes he heard a soft knock and looked over his shoulder, letting a plate slip in the process. Keith was standing against the wall looking nervous and guilty. “Hey.”

“What are you doing back here?” he snapped.

“Your aunt let me through. She said you were over here.” Lance huffed and turned away from him and tried to ignore when he heard his footsteps getting nearer. “How do you say ‘I’m sorry’ in Spanish?” Lance shut off the water, dried his hands, and looked at him in exasperation. “Seriously, how?”

Reminding himself that he had no logical reason to be upset, he answered, “ _Perdoname._ That’s how you say it.”

Keith nodded and repeated it, lilting the word as a question and Lance nodded at his pronunciation. “Okay…. Lance, _perdoname, porfavor._ ” Lance couldn’t help but scoff and smile at his apology. “I’m serious. If I did something to upset you or if I said something or… if I did anything to make you mad at me, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why would you apologize if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for?” he muttered.

“Because I don’t like not talking to you.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and stared at him. It was comments like that which made him wonder if Keith had meant more when he started hanging out around him. “I should have told you. That I’m dating someone. I know that.” Lance’s lips parted in surprise and he wondered if he should refute that. Wouldn’t that just tell Keith that he liked him? But as he opened his mouth to speak, Keith said, “And if that’s not what made you upset, then I’m sorry for whatever it was. Just please stop ignoring me.”

“Fine. But just because you apologized in Spanish.” Keith smiled ducked his head. When he looked back up, he had to flip his hair out of his face, and Lance’s heart stuttered. “But I am supposed to be working. So….”

“Right, sorry. I’ll see you around.” Lance nodded and turned back to the dishes. He heard Keith leave a few beats later.

The next week was a series of routine. Lance got up each day, worked in the restaurant, worked in the shop, then saw Keith later at night when they’d hang out in the hammock in the backyard and eat whatever snack his mom had made them. That was if he didn’t catch him in the shop and talked with him while Lance fiddled with different car parts, continuing the occasional Spanish lesson. Keith didn’t stop by on weekends, and his texts were sparse, but Lance didn’t mind. He went out with his family on weekends, whether to the flea market or the San Jacinto battlefield. His sisters took up most of his attention, and some nights, the family had a cookout in which Lance was pulled this way and that among his cousins.

It had only been two weekends since the party, but Lance had caught on to Keith’s absence during them. He didn’t ask where he went during them. He didn’t think he’d want to know.

But Keith always asked.

He was sitting on the bench in the mechanic shop on a Monday when he asked Lance about his weekend. “Where’d you go?”

Lance shrugged. “We went to Galveston Island on Sunday. I got in a fight with Jorge, but that always happens. Saturday we were at the _Sabadomingo_ flea market. I got this really good torta that I scarfed down in like two minutes.” Keith chuckled and Lance slid out from under a car. “Friday we had _carne asada_ at Tio Angel’s house. We might not have money, but we always pool together enough for a good time.” Keith didn’t speak, like he was waiting on Lance to ask him the same question. Instead, Lance asked, “Can you pass me the pliers?”

“Yeah, sure.” He stood and grabbed a pliers for him, kneeling down to give it to him while Lance fumbled with the wires to the headlights. After a few moments of quiet, Keith asked, “So, do you think you could teach me some of this? I feel a little useless just sitting here and watching.”

Lance slid out and tilted his head. “You kidding? You’re like… my personal assistant. Handing me tools and stuff. Very useful.” Keith smiled and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah okay. So you want a soda?”

“Please?” Keith chuckled and went to get him a coke. Lance slid out from under the car and sat on the bench next to Keith, clinking the tops of their bottles together.

Keith suddenly took his hand and began inspecting it, causing Lance to gasp and blush. “Your hands are covered in grease,” he murmured. Lance chuckled nervously and Keith seemed lost in thought as he ran his fingers over Lance’s. “Sorry,” he whispered, looking him in the eyes.

“It’s cool,” he breathed, struggling to take a breath. “So, more Spanish while I take a break?” He nodded, tossing his soda back, taking long gulps. “ _Esquina.”_

“Corner.”

“ _Tienda?”_

“Store.”

“ _Hermoso._ ”

“Beautiful.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” Keith nodded. “Wrong. It’s a translation for my name.”

Keith laughed aloud and shoved him playfully. “You’re so full of it,” he laughed joyfully. Lance smiled and tipped his soda bottle up, causing it to spill down his chin to his shirt. “Lance! You asshat!”

He swung to hit his shoulder, but Lance stood, getting out of the way quickly. Keith set his soda down and chased after him, jumping over a tool box, racing around the trunk of the car. He ducked behind a tire, but Lance didn’t see him. He stepped carefully, ears attentive for any sound of movement. As he turned around Keith leapt toward him, making Lance jump and curse in surprise before racing off. As he tried to race out of the shop, Lance hit his funny bone on the metal frame of the garage and skidded to a stop.

“Oh thank, God,” Keith breathed as he caught up to him. “I was getting a cramp in my side.” He leaned against Lance and leaned over to look at his injured arm as Lance grimaced and fought off painful chuckles. “Ha ha, you dork,” he teased. Lance rolled his eyes and Keith stuck his tongue out at him. “That’s what you get for tipping my soda.”

“You said you got a stitch in your side?” Keith started to nod, and Lance immediately attacked, tickling his sides, as Keith yelped in surprise.

“No, no, no, no!” he begged, fighting back, half laughing, half wincing. “Okay, I surrender, I surrender!”

Lance stopped and laughed at him, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. Keith kept looking at him, his eyes soft and almost lilac in the lighting. He didn’t want to stop looking at him, even if he knew Keith was off limits. Lance noticed he began to lean in.

It would’ve been so simple to just sit there and let it happen. But in the back of his head, he kept thinking about how Keith hadn’t told him about the boyfriend. About how said boyfriend was in school, probably thinking that his boyfriend was being loyal and true. And how he didn’t want to be a secret. As their lips brushed, Lance turned his head and shut his eyes, taking a step away. “Keith, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping back as well. “I thought… I thought you… liked me.”

Lance turned to look at him in disbelief. His face was red- his cheeks, his eyes, his ears. His eyebrows were furrowed. “I do,” Lance found himself admitting. “But you have a boyfriend. And I’m not into cheating.”

“That’s not….” He sighed and looked away. “It’s complicated.” Lance waited for an explanation. Instead, he stood, rubbing his neck anxiously. “I should go. I’m sorry.” He walked away before Lance could say anything.

Lance sighed, looking after him for a moment before clenching his jaw and getting back to the car.

“Lance.” He jumped in surprise when he heard Papo’s voice. He looked angry. “What do you think-”

“Papo, no nothing-”

“You like boys.” It was a statement. Lance wanted to deny it, but if his grandfather had seen him almost kiss Keith, there was no use. Instead, he stood there frozen. “You come home, kicked out of college, and Carla has us helping you, and instead of working for the money you say you need, you spend time kissing boys in my shop?” he reprimanded, his voice growing louder as he spoke. Lance shook his head, trying to explain, but unsure how. Or what. “Go home, Lance. I can’t look at you right now.” Lance tried to speak, but his grandfather yelled, _“Vete, coño!”_

Knowing it was no use to protest, Lance left and started walking home, running his hands through his hair in frustration. When he got home, he found his siblings all watching a movie in the living room.

“You’re home early,” Jackie noted.

Lance didn’t answer. He went to his room and sat down, feeling tears sting in the back of his eyes. He was trying so hard to make his family proud, but he couldn’t stop screwing up. And he didn’t doubt that this would throw him into the same category as his other cousins. One dead, one drunk, one disappeared, one teen mom, one a young wife, and now one gay dropout. Well, bisexual. But that may just be worse for his uncles and grandparents.

Unable to handle the mental exhaustion, Lance fell asleep and didn’t wake up until his mom came home. She’d run a hand through his hair, waking him, and smiled at him. “What are you doing home, _mijo?”_ she asked. “Jorge told me you got back early.”

“Papo found out, Ma,” he murmured, gripping his pillow and staring at the wall. When she didn’t answer, he said, “He knows I like guys. And he got angry. And he told me to leave.” He covered himself up and squeezed his eyes shut. “Why am I like this, Ma?”

“ _Ay, mi niño, calla ya,”_ she shushed as she rubbed her hand against his arm. “There is nothing wrong with you. You can’t help who you like. _Mirame.”_ Lance lowered the covers and looked at her. “No matter what, we are a family. They can’t turn their back on you. They didn’t turn their backs on your cousins, so they won’t do it to you. Your cousins turned their backs on us. And you know what? If they came back, we’d accept them.” Lance doubted it. He knew how good some of his family members were with grudges. How much the Bible and all of its rules meant to his grandparents. “I’ll talk to him, okay?” He nodded and huffed. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “How did he find out?”

Lance blushed and groaned into his pillow. “Keith stopped by to see me,” he mumbled. “We got too close….” His mom’s eyebrows raised further and he sighed. “We’re not dating. He’s seeing someone already. That’s why he left. Then Papo….” She hummed and nodded.

“Well, you can’t sit and mope, Lance. Come on, help me with lunch.” She patted his shoulder and stood. Lance knew there was no saying no in this house, so he stood and followed her out to the kitchen to help with dinner.

He didn’t speak much as he helped her by cutting ham and heating up tortillas. By the time his siblings were supposed to come eat, they’d all noticed he was upset, but followed their mother’s lead and didn’t question it.

Vaguely, he wondered if Papo would tell his buela. Would he tell his uncles? And if so, what would Lance do if he was made into an outcast for it? Sure, his cousins had married, gotten themselves killed, or had a kid out of wedlock, but in a Latino household, that was nothing compared to a boy liking boys.

At least he knew his mother and siblings wouldn’t hate him. His tias wouldn’t. Unless their husbands made them. Lance shook his head, trying not to think about it too much. But then he started thinking about Keith.

What did this say of their friendship? And what had Keith meant when he said it was complicated? He hadn’t even texted him since. Lance wasn’t sure if he should text. He wasn’t sure he could handle not getting a response.

The next day, he was working in the restaurant again. He was surprised that there was suddenly more business that day. Both he and Diana had to go around waiting tables and Tia Carla had to help the chef keep up with orders.

At one point, Keith’s friends came in… without Keith. Lance tried not to show how much that hurt. He walked over and waited on them like usual, smiling and making jokes. It wasn’t until they left that Lance asked Hunk softly about Keith.

“Um. His boyfriend wanted to surprise him. He’s here for the rest of the week, so….” Lance nodded and smiled through the hurt he felt.

“Well that’s good for Keith. He must have missed him. Have a good day.” He smiled and walked away, reaching another table and smiling and talking but he had no idea what automatic words were coming out of his mouth. He had no idea if he was supposed to go to the shop or not, and he was afraid to call his grandfather.

Afraid to hear the disappointment. Afraid to hear the anger. Afraid to hear the disgust. He had no idea how he’d messed everything up so horribly.

Instead, he stayed in the restaurant, helping make some _pan dulce_ so Diana and his other cousins could try selling loosely for some extra cash. He lost himself in dough kneading and molding, taught by Tia Lourdes and Buela. He remembered being smaller, watching his buela make little dough balls for cookies or empanadas or _gorditas de azuar._ He remembered seeing Tia Lourdes when she had barely married and the way she’d bend over rolling dough quickly for tortillas or experimented with her own _pan dulce._

He used to love sitting beside them, watching, playing with a small piece of dough for himself until it was a grayish color and colored in small lint pieces from all the times Lance’s sweaty little hands had rolled it around like Play-Do. And when he was old enough, they started letting him help more. And he loved it. He just hated the clean up.

Once he’d made most of the bread, his tia Carla came in to help with the rest. “What’s wrong, _cariño?”_ Lance looked at her and smiled, shaking his head. “No, no, no, don’t you pull that with me. I know you. What is it? Is it Keith?”

“It’s stupid.”

“You’re a teenager, you’re allowed to be stupid.”

Lance laughed and shook his head. “I should be focused on getting money for school and reapplying in time for spring semester or a fall wait list. Not some boy with an 80’s hairdo.”

Tia Carla hummed and looked at the table where the dough and flour were spread. “It is a very interesting style,” she admitted. “I could fix it. A little off the top, a little off the sides, and _listo. Un papasito para mi sobrinito.”_ Lance burst into laughter and shook his head. “But- you have a right to your feelings. You’re young, _chingado,_ and you have this idea that you have to be this perfect kid.”

“Don’t I?” he muttered. “I’ve already screwed up enough. I have to fix it.”

“No! No, you don’t,” she insisted. “Lance, you’ve already done so much for us to be proud of. You never rebelled like your _primos._ You never got into drugs and gangs, you didn’t knock a girl up, you never stayed out at parties. You took care of your siblings, of the house. You were the man of the house. And you never should have had to be. You are allowed mistakes. And you’re allowed to be a teenager and have a crush and go on dates and do more than just work and learn, _mijo.”_ Lance furrowed his eyebrows and gave her a small smile, a subtle nod. He loved her so much. He loved how she always knew what to say. “ _Bueno, dime._ What’s going on with Keith?”

“Nothing, Tia,” he insisted, checking the oven. “I mean… I think Papo’s mad at me because he saw Keith try to kiss me.”

 _“No me digas!”_ she yelped. “So he likes you?”

“No,” he said, his face warm. He made sure not to look at her. “He has a boyfriend.”

 _“_ Well that’s a cheery piece of news,” she muttered sarcastically. “But at least it means you have a chance. He could like you.”

“I’m not the type to try and get someone away if they’re in a relationship. You know how I am about that….”

She huffed and put her hand on her hip. “How could anyone forget the great Mateo Gutierrez Fiasco?” Lance grimaced at the mention of his ex. “If he likes you, he likes you. It doesn’t make you a bad guy.”

“No, Tia,” he said firmly. She scoffed and continued to knead. “Tia? Can we keep this between us? I love my ma, but I really don’t feel like explaining it all to her. And you know how Tia Lourdes can be.”

“My lips are sealed.” Lance prayed that was true.

The rest of the week was uneventful. No sign of Keith. No messages. No visits. No Spanish lessons. Papo had yet to call him or visit him. Lance wasn’t sure if his mom had talked to him yet or not. He hadn’t gotten any crap from his uncles, so he figured he hadn’t told them anything. But he also hadn’t heard from Buela. And that worried him.

It was a Saturday night and Tio Angel had visited to make Mexican-style burgers on the grill outside. Lance was keeping an eye on the kids as they ran around and scrolling through scholarships and application loopholes on his laptop. The mosquitoes were driving him nuts, but he couldn’t go inside yet. Tio Angel had just put out what looked like a Tiki torch and it was supposed to keep them away, but so far no luck.

Somewhere along saving links for financial aid, he noticed a car stopping at the side of the street in front of his house. He glanced up and felt his heart flip at the sight of Keith’s Altima. He didn’t move as Keith got out and hesitated by his door, his eyes scanning the front yard until he saw Lance. His eyes were pleading, even from far away.

With a pounding heart, he shut his laptop and set it on the bench outside. He walked over to him, staying on the opposite side of the car. “What are you…?” he asked softly, not wanting to seem like he didn’t want him there, but not wanting to seem like he did either.

“Um,” he gulped. He seemed skittish, nervous. “I-I wanted to talk. But you’re busy. I should’ve texted. I’m stupid, oh God. Sorry. I’ll go.”

Lance frowned and shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay. We’re making burgers.” Keith licked his lips, his eyes flitting to the grill. “You want to eat?” He nodded quickly, but he didn’t move.

“Um, yeah. But… first…. I wanted to talk to you. I want to explain what happened the last time we hung out-”

“Look, it’s cool, we don’t have to-”

“Please let me explain, before I lose my nerve,” he begged quietly, his voice breaking. Lance furrowed his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Can we take a drive?”

“I’m supposed to be watching the kids,” he said gently. “But I can ask Jorge to for a bit?” Keith hesitated, but Lance was already looking back, calling for his brother. Jorge jogged over to him, giving Keith a frustrated once over before looking at Lance. “I need to get something, can you watch the kids for a few minutes? Tell Ma I’ll be right back.”

“You fucking serious?” Lance flicked his forehead, and Jorge hit his hand. “Man, whatever.” He turned away, but Lance noticed the stance of protectiveness. It was the same as his own when he would watch the kids.

“Let’s go,” he said. He got into the passenger seat, and Keith drove off. Lance noticed he was shaking slightly, and he wasn’t sure why. Then he noticed he was wearing a jacket. In June. In 98 degree summer evening heat. Finally, he stopped the car near the woods of a park. Lance wondered what the hell was going on. “Keith?”

He reached up and turned on the light in the car, illuminating them in horribly fluorescent white light. “Stay there, okay? Don’t move. And don’t freak out.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows, but before he could answer, Keith was shrugging off his jacket. He wouldn’t look at Lance as he placed it over the cup holders.

Lance noticed something, but he wasn’t sure what because Keith had moved again. This time he was taking off his shirt. Lance clenched his jaw and tensed, his heart pounding.

As the shirt came off, Lance saw them. Bruises. Yellowed, green, purple, blue. A disgusting array of speckled color against his pale skin beneath the bright light. The light made them so much more promiscuous, so much uglier, so much more terrifying. They were large bruises, placed along his torso, sprinkled on his arms, evening swirling along his throat and neck.

A few shaking breaths later, Keith turned toward his window, exposing his back. More bruises. Angry, red scars like scratches.

“Keith…. What the hell happened to you?” he breathed, staring in horror at the cruel mutilations on his body. Destroying something so wonderful was sinful. And Lance had no idea what explanation could come from it.

“This is why it’s complicated,” he croaked. “He’s careful not to hurt me where people can see. But….”

“He?”

Keith’s eyes flitted to him, his eyebrows scrunched together. “My boyfriend.”

“ _Your boyfriend_ did this to you?” Lance asked, feeling unreasonable anger bubble in his chest. “What- why, h-how could he-? What the hell is wrong with him, when did he start-? What?” Lance covered his mouth and felt tears sting his eyes as he saw the marks on his body with understanding.

The finger marks. The bruises like large bubbles, the size of fists or feet. The scrapes that had faded.

“I don’t know. It started once when we… I didn’t want to spend the night with him. And he got mad. And he started yelling at me, telling me all these horrible things. I left, and he apologized the next day. But he would keep saying things sometimes. And I wouldn’t say anything back. Nothing to stop him.” He rubbed his bare arm and gulped. “Then one day he punched me. And I fought back. But he wouldn’t stop, even when I did. Again, he apologized. And I figured, we’re guys. Guys fight. It doesn’t matter. But then he just… wouldn’t stop.”

“I thought he lived in another city, why don’t you break up with him?” Lance asked, realizing how insensitive it sounded once the words were out of his mouth.

But Keith shook his head. “I tried once. And he just….” Keith curled into himself and grimaced. “He visits every weekend. Making sure I’m being good. Making sure I’m home when I should be. Not talking to anyone else. I’m scared he’d try to kill me if I tried breaking up with him again.” He sighed and leaned his head against the steering wheel. “And even if I could charge him with assault, he’d get out on bail. His family has so much money. I’ve looked it up already. Different ways to get him away. Nothing is foolproof. I’m trapped.”

“Don’t your friends know?” Lance whispered.

Keith shook his head. “I’ve always been embarrassed. I mean what guy manages to let his boyfriend kick his ass and have his way any time he wants? A weak one. I’m weak, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t want them to know.”

“Can I move?” he whispered. Keith nodded. Lance reached forward slowly and took his hand. “You’re not weak. This isn’t your fault. You said it yourself, you fought back and he hurt you more.” He cupped his face and turned him, their eyes brimming with tears. “God, Keith you don’t deserve this. Not at all. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t, don’t do that,” he muttered, pushing him away. He pulled his shirt back on and Lance stared at him silently. “I don’t want anyone pitying me. I don’t want people telling me we’re just guys and I should just deal with it. I don’t want people telling me anything.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Lance answered indignantly. “Keith, no one deserves this. When you’re in a relationship, the last thing anyone would do is hurt the person they’re with. This isn’t right. And if it upsets me, it’s because I like you and I hate that this is happening to you.”

Keith ran a hand through his hair, the imprint of a hand lightly bruised into his arm. “I want to get away. I do. I want to start over, leave him behind. I want to try things with you, because when I’m with you, I feel more like myself even if I don’t know who that is. And it’s not so bad not knowing.” He looked over at him, his violet eyes filled with pain. “I liked you in high school, you know? I knew who you were. How smart you were. How a lot of people liked you because you were funny. I just… never tried getting closer to you because you seemed so… otherworldly. And now that you’re here, that I stand a chance… I’m trapped. I’m trapped and I don’t know what to do to break free.” He leaned against the window and shook his head. “I could hide. Find a new place to live, get a different car, even move from the city and erase my social media, change my number. But I don’t want to live my life hiding and running.”

Lance didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to fix it. He knew Keith didn’t have anyone who was there for him. And he understood his fear and his shame. Being LGBT was hard enough. Who would take him serious when he said he was getting hurt? But he knew he wanted to be there for him. He knew he wanted to be there to soothe the bruises and the scratches.

So instead of telling him everything would be fine, that they’d figure it out, Lance just placed a hand over Keith’s and murmured, “I’m here.”

Keith turned his hand and laced his fingers between Lance’s, holding on tightly. They remained quiet for a moment before Keith pulled away and sniffed. “I should get you back.”

The ride was quiet and solemn. Part of Lance wanted to take Keith and kiss the pain away. Show him there was a different kind of relationship. But he also didn’t want to be ‘the other guy.’ He didn’t want to be the reason Keith got hurt worse. He didn’t want to know that for every soothing kiss there would be another bruised hit.

They returned to the house and Lance waited for Keith to park. “You can still come for a burger, Keith. It’s okay.”

Keith smiled slightly and nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Lance nodded and waited for Keith to tug on his jacket before they both got out of the car and started for the house. Almost as soon as Lance was inside, he heard Emily shout, “Mami! Lance is home!”

And then: “ _Hijo de tu madre, para donde te desapareciste, cabron!_ _Quien chingados te crees? Te mandas solo?”_ She barged out from the hallway, an angry look on her face. Lance stood with wide eyes as Keith stood frozen behind him. Lance knew Keith wouldn’t know what she was saying, but the tone of her voice and the look on her face was enough to tell him Lance was in deep shit.

“Sorry, Ma,” he said weakly. “ _Despues te explico,”_ he added with a raise of his eyebrows, begging her to understand. His mother stared him down and slowly began to relax, sensing there was something more. “Keith’s here. I said he could stay for burgers.”

“Oh, Keith. Yes, of course you can. Please, make yourself at home.” She gave Lance a final meaningful look and went out to the front yard to take some buns to Tio Angel.

“That was kind of terrifying,” Keith whispered, staring at the door.

“Mexican moms. You gotta love ‘em.” Keith snorted and shook his head as he followed Lance back out to the front yard. Alexia greeted him with excitement, shouting _Cabito, cabito!_ while trying to climb onto his back. Lance had to calm her down and tell her that Keith was too tired to play so she wouldn’t hurt him.

Jorge had an upset look on his face, but Lance ignored it, not really wanting his jerk of a teenage brother to ruin the serenity that came from being with Keith and joking about everything and nothing. It was a little easier, knowing they liked each other. They sat a little closer, smiled a little wider, felt a little more at ease.

Neither of them wanted the night to end.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: homophobia/homophobic language and of course abuse

That Sunday there was a soft knock at the door. Still in his PJ’s, mouth half-filled with pancakes, Lance opened and froze at the sight of his Buela. She looked tired and slightly uncomfortable, but she was there. He hadn’t realized it, but there had been a part of him that thought he’d never see her again.

“Buela,” he breathed. “Um, come in. Ma, Buela’s here,” Lance stepped aside and his sisters stood immediately to greet her, pulling her in for hugs and kisses. Jorge waited and pecked her cheek unceremoniously before sitting back down.

“Mami, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Lance’s mom asked, hurrying over to greet Buela. “Hungry? I can make you some coffee and toast.”

“No, I’m fine,” she said softly. “I came to talk about Lance. And your father.” His mother’s face hardened and she lifted her chin.

“What about Lance?”

Her old eyes flickered to him, the distant look breaking Lance’s heart. It was like he wasn’t even there. “You know,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. “Your grandfather isn’t happy. Since when are you… like this?” She hesitated, as though any direct mention of Lance’s sexuality were a curse.

He shrugged, his face passive even though the knot in his throat was so big it hurt. “Since always, I guess. If he doesn’t want me helping anymore, fine. If he doesn’t want to see me, fine. He could have at least had the guts to tell me himself.” He turned away, feeling the burn in his eyes.

But before he could walk away, his grandmother called his name in a louder, demanding voice. “Don’t you go storming off like a child, Lance,” she chided. “What do you want from us, eh? You want us to throw a party and congratulate you for your sins?”

“My sins?” he repeated, his heart shattering. “What sins? What have I done?”

“You know what the Bible-”

Suddenly, Lance’s mother spoke, her voice sharp and angry as she started yelling in Spanish. “Don’t you come into my house to tell _my_ son that he’s not good. You have no right to talk to him that way. And don’t you bring the Bible into this either, you know very well the very Bible calls for us to love unconditionally. We are no one to judge others, only God can do that. Lance has the purest heart of any of your grandchildren, he is not bad! And if you and Papi are going to turn your backs on him, then you can go ahead and forget about me and my other kids as well!” Her eyes were filled with tears, but her voice was strong.

Lance was speechless hearing that his mother would rather cut herself and her family from her parents before letting anyone turn their backs on him. His grandmother stared her down, but there was nothing she could say. Lance’s mother was old enough to make her own choices, she had her family, and she’d gotten her house and everything else without anyone’s help.

“Dani,” she said finally. “You really have no problem with this? With the abominable actions that would come from Lance being the way he is?” She turned to him, the look on her face almost pleading. “Are you confused, _mijo?_ Did that boy say something to you to-”

“Oh my God,” Lance interrupted, rubbing his face. “No, I’m not confused! And no one told me anything. I can’t help it if I like someone who’s a boy! No one said anything to me to make me like this okay? And if you came to try and change me, then just go!” He crossed his arms, struggling not to run off and hide in his room.

When Lance was smaller, Buela would take him to church. She taught him to pray, she encouraged him to do his Frist Communion and Confirmation. He was even an altar helper for a few years. His Papo had taught him to fix cars as soon as he’d turned twelve. Lance would stay over at their house on weekends, filled with baking and cartoons that Buela would watch with him while she crocheted. They used to play outside with him, and take him to the park.

How was all of that going to be erased, insignificant, just because Lance felt something for his same gender?

“You are my grandson,” she said softly. “I couldn’t cut you out of my life even if I wanted to. But I worry for your soul.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her tiredly. “Your mother’s right. I can’t judge you. That’s for God to do. But your Papo and I… we can’t be okay with this. We can’t pretend we are.”

“Fine,” he said tiredly. “Don’t be. But just accept that I’m like this. And I’m not changing. I don’t know if I’ll marry a girl or a guy, but even if you’re not okay with it, can you just be there?”

She wiped away a few tears and looked at her daughter then at her grandson. She swallowed and nodded. “Of course we can. We still love you, _carino._ We just never expected this.”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “Really? I’m pretty sure Ma has like five pictures of me in her heels when I was ten.”

“Lots of kids do that,” she scoffed. Lance shrugged. Yeah, even Bobo did that when he was small. It was like a game. Who could run the fastest with the devil’s shoes? “I’ll talk to your papo, but… in the meantime, it’s best you stay away from the shop.” Lance lowered his head and shrugged, feigning indifference. “ _Te quiero,_ ” she murmured, as she hugged him before leaving the house again.

“You know, it sounds like every guy in your life has screwed you over,” Jorge muttered as he walked past them, with plates in his hands. It took everything in Lance not to trip him.

“Yeah, starting with you, you little punk,” he snapped. His mother hit his arm with the back of her hand.

“ _Oye. Aplacate._ ” She pushed her hair out of her face and looked him over. “You gonna explain what happened yesterday?”

Lance grimaced and nodded. “Can we talk in your room?” Her face fell, dropping the angry look and turning into a nervous, but protective one. Talks in Mama’s room were always the serious ones. It’s where Lance, Jorge, and Jackie had all gotten the Puberty talk and The Talk. It’s where Lance came out to her, a night which he remembered was filled with shaking and crying and buttered pecan ice cream. It’s where he spent the night, talking, crying over his worst break up. It’s where Jorge went when he got suspended from school after a fight. It’s where Emily and Alexia were forced to resolve their latest fight.

If anyone was talking to Daniela in her room, it meant the others stayed away until the door opened again. It was that sacred.

So when Lance asked her if they could go there, Lance knew she would understand how serious his reason was. It wasn’t some crush or some rebel act. There was something more.

She shut the door, calling out for the kids to help clean up before she did. Then she sat on her bed and looked at Lance expectantly.

Lance paced back and forth, wringing his hands. It wasn’t his secret to tell, it wasn’t right for him to tell her about his life. But then, he knew he had to explain if Keith ever had a sudden break down and needed him.

So he took a breath and sat beside her, shutting his eyes. He wanted to focus on his words. “Papo found out about me because I was playing around with Keith and… and he tried to kiss me. But he has a boyfriend. So I didn’t let him and he left. He just said it was complicated. Then… he didn’t talk to me all week. His friends came to the restaurant and one, Hunk, mentioned his boyfriend was here.” Lance swallowed, feeling unquenchable anger towards that faceless boyfriend. “Then yesterday he said he needed to talk. And he was acting so weird, I knew something was wrong. Then….” He swallowed, remembering the colors splattering Keith’s body in horrifying patterns. “Mami, he was covered in bruises and cuts and scratches,” he breathed, feeling his voice break under the strain it took him to stay calm. “Some of them were large bruises, like he’d taken a soccer ball to the stomach. Some… were in the shape of hands.” He heard her gasp and her hand left his shoulder. Lance imagined she was covering her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. “He has so many. It looked horrible. And it’s because of him. His boyfriend.”

“No,” she whispered.

Lance opened his eyes. “He tried to break up with him before, he said he beat him worse and he’s scared to try again, Ma. It’s not his fault, he’s trying to get away, but nobody would take him serious and the guy could get bail, and he doesn’t want to run away, Keith isn’t like that, he’s proud and never backs down, okay, he-”

“ _Mijo, mijo, calmate.”_ She shushed him and caressed his face. “I’m not saying it’s his fault. This sort of thing never is.” She furrowed her eyebrows and clenched her jaw. “And he only just told you?”

Lance nodded. “He wanted to explain why he tried to kiss me. He likes me. And I like him. But… I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know what to do. He’s right, and you see it here with any crime. The police don’t care about us, Ma. They didn’t even come the time someone broke into your car. And when there was a gang fight down the street? You think they’ll listen to Keith when he says he’s being abused? By a guy?” Lance was fighting back angry tears. It was so unfair. Keith deserved so much more. So much.

“Listen to me,” she said sharply. She tugged Lance’s chin so he could look her in the eyes. “I know it’s hard. But don’t you dare sit here twiddling your thumbs. We will figure something out. We’ll help him. He’ll be okay, he’ll be safe. We’re Mexicans, _coño._ We don’t give up.” Lance nodded and hugged his mom tightly.

“He’s such a good person, Ma. He doesn’t deserve any of that. He looked so broken.” She held him tightly and took a deep, shaky breath. Lance prayed that she was right. That they would find a way to help Keith.

The next day, Lance was washing more dishes in the restaurant. He was singing along with the small radio to none other than Selena. His tia Carla had been the one to get him to fall in love with her. Lance remembered being small and bursting into tears when he found out he wouldn’t be able to see her in concert or marry her because she’d passed away before he was born. Growing up, Lance had often played the music when he was cleaning and taking care of his siblings.

Of course, no one else knew that about him. He would take that secret to the grave.

“You’re seriously obsessed with this singer aren’t you?” he heard a familiar voice say. He jumped and the dishes clattered back down loudly, making him wince. He heard a soft chuckle and he turned to find Keith a mere few steps in front on him. “Hey,” he said shyly.

“Tia Carla let you back here, huh?” He nodded with a heart-stopping smile. “Any chance you’ll forget what you just saw?” He shook his head, his smile turning mischievous. Lance groaned and covered his face.

“It was cute,” Keith chuckled. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Lance blushed profusely when he said that. He itched to pull him into his arms and kiss him. He knew he’d be kissed back. He knew Keith wanted it just as badly. But Lance wouldn’t let himself.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked, drying his hands.

“Well, when your cousin came to get our order, I figured you were back here.” He stepped closer, tilting his head. “Do you not want me back here?” Had it not been for the worried furrow of his eyebrows and nervousness in his eyes, Lance might’ve taken that as a flirty line.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, as Keith took another step and smiled. _God, I really want to kiss you._

Keith’s eyebrow went up, his cheeks reddened. “Then do it,” he whispered almost pleadingly. It took Lance a second to realize he’d said that out loud. “I want you to,” he said, looking away nervously.

“Keith, I-”

“Hey, buddy,” they heard. They both started and turned to look at the intruder. Hunk was standing near the entrance to the kitchen area, his look wary. Keith stepped away from Lance, his head ducked. “Your aunt let me back here. How’ve you been, I haven’t seen you in a while?”

Lance tried to get a grip on himself and offered a smile. “I’ve been okay. Busy. Family drama. Usual.” He shrugged. “You? Are Pidge and Shiro here too? They can come back here too.” He could feel that he was on verge of rambling and he hated it.

“They are, but the waitress just brought our food. Keith, I didn’t want yours to get cold.” Keith looked at him, his brows narrowed, but his eyes swimming with fear.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ll see you later, Lance.” He didn’t look at him as he left.

Hunk’s eyes followed until Keith was out of sight. Then he looked back at Lance with worried eyes. “Okay, so… either Keith is trying to seduce you and you’re falling for it, or you’re doing what I think you’re doing.” Hunk crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“Which is?” he questioned.

“Having an affair?” He huffed and covered his face in his hands. “Look, I don’t usually get into people’s love lives, but Michael is my friend. I won’t stay quiet if he’s screwing around with you-”

“No!” Lance shouted in a panic. His entire body went cold. “No, Hunk, please, listen to me. That’s not what’s happening. Yeah, I like him, but I’m not doing anything, I promise. And neither is he, I swear. There’s nothing to tell. Nothing at all.”

Hunk looked at him suspiciously. “I hope not. Michael’s a really great guy and he adores Keith. He’s always telling me what he’s planning for each weekend and trying to surprise him and… my point is he doesn’t deserve to be cheated on, okay?”

Lance swallowed the bile in his throat, fought back the anger bubbling in his entire being. “I believe you,” he managed. “I promise we’re not doing anything.” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “I’m actually trying to get over him. I met this girl at the movies.”

Hunk smiled, seeming genuinely happy for him. “Really? That’s great! What’s her name?”

Lance didn’t even think before he blurted, “Selena.” He fought the urge to slam his head into the dirty water of the dishes.

“Well, hey you should bring her to our next party. One of our friends is throwing a summer bash for the fourth of July coming up. Maybe you two could finally hook up.” Lance chuckled and nodded. “I’ll let you know the full details. And I’m sorry if I came on strong or pushy, I don’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay, dude,” Lance said. “I get it. Sorry if we gave you the wrong idea. We’re really just friends.”

“I believe you,” he promised. “I guess I’m just paranoid. Keith cheated on him once before, and… it was a really bad time for Michael.” Lance’s lips parted in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. “Well, I’d better get back to my food, I’m starving.”

“Yeah. Tell the others I said hey.” Hunk left leaving Lance confused and uncertain.

Once the shift there was over, Lance took a chance going to the shop. Either he’d be able to talk to his grandfather and fix things, or he’d know once and for all whether Papo was still his Papo.

When he reached the shop, he was surprised to see his cousin Beto there, a cigarette between his lips as he struggled with the transmission of a car. Lance glanced around for his grandfather but didn’t see him. He walked over to his cousin and leaned against the car.

“Good to see you again,” he said sarcastically. He hadn’t seen Beto since he got back home.

Beto looked up at him and Lance was taken aback by his appearance. He knew Beto was a drunk, but he didn’t think he’d have succumbed to it so completely. Bags under bloodshot, lazy eyes. Yellowed teeth with an acrid breath he could smell from two feet away. He looked almost skeletal like his survival depended solely on alcohol. There was stubble on his face in messy splotches and Lance wondered how he was even keeping himself together.

“Heard you flunked out of school.” Lance shrugged. “Also heard you’re a _maricón_.”

Lance tensed at scowled at him. “At least I’m not a drunk like you.”

“Didn’t think you’d be one to like being fucked.”

Lance grit his teeth and knew that if he even tried to point out that his liking boys didn’t mean he was the one being topped his cousin would be too stupid to understand. Much less if Lance tried to explain that he was into boys and girls. So instead, he fought back with whatever he could. “At least I can get laid unlike your pathetic ass.”

“Yo what the fuck d’you just say, punk?” Beto snarled, with that stupid gang member stance he’d gotten from Carlos. He walked toward Lance, but Lance stood straight, looking him in the eyes.

“You heard me, deadbeat.”

For a second, the scowl remained on Beto’s messy face. Then he broke into a smile and laughed, punching Lance in the shoulder. “Damn, boy, finally grew some _cojones._ Didn’t think you ever would.” Lance rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Where’s Papo?”

He shrugged. “He was here this morning, then he wasn’t. He just had me come in. Don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Again, Lance rolled his eyes. At this rate, he was afraid they’d roll out of his head if he stayed any longer. But he shoved Beto out of the way and looked at the car, quickly realizing what was wrong and setting to work to fix it.

Meanwhile Beto leaned against the car and watched him. “So you got a boyfriend, _jotito?”_ Lance glared at him. “What? Papo said he saw you with some dude.”

“Some dude?”

“Yeah. Asian. Long hair. Said he’s been to the house.”

“You were sober for all that?” Lance mumbled. Beto hit him again and Lance huffed. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“You want him to be,” he pointed out. Lance stared at him and clenched his teeth. “What? I hear shit.” Lance remained quiet, and Beto didn’t talk until Lance was done with the transmission. Then he moved to the next car and started a tire change. “Come on cuz,” he insisted. “Talk to me.”

“What, so you can call me a _marica, joto,_ faggot, and who knows what else?”

“Dick lover,” he supplied. Lance glared at him again, but found Beto smiling. “Aw, I’m just kidding, dude.” He sat on the hood of the car as Lance unscrewed the front tire. “Tell me about him.”

“Why is everyone invested in my dating life?” he mumbled.

“So you are dating!” Lance groaned and shook his head. “Then?” He didn’t answer. Beto left and Lance let out a breath of relief.

Then he came back and Lance felt something hit his head, then his shoulder, then his nose and his cheek. He realized they were chile covered peanuts. “You’re an actual man-child, Beto.” His cousin just snorted. “What do you want to know? He’s not my boyfriend. He has one already.” He grunted as he unhooked the tire and lugged the new one over. “Yeah, I like him, but I need to focus on getting enough money to go back to school.” He fumbled with the tire and spoke breathlessly as he fixed the screws, more out of breath because of the memories of Keith’s bruises and Hunk’s revelation. “That’s it.”

“So why’d he kiss you?”

“He didn’t.” Beto snorted. “He didn’t. I moved away before he could.” Beto made a sound of disbelief. “I’m not into cheating, okay? Ever. It’s not cool.”

“Oh that Mateo dude. Yeah, my _jefa_ told me about that.” Lance’s eyes widened and his cheeks went red. He seriously needed to have a talk with his tia. “Shit, that explained a lot, man.” He popped some peanuts into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “So he likes you. You like him. But he’s got a beau already.” Lance nodded as he stood to move to the next tire. “Fuck that shit, dude. Go get him.”

“It’s complicated,” he found himself repeating. Beto hummed and kept chewing his peanuts. Lance managed to finish the tires and he stood, dusting himself off. “If you see Papo, can you ask him whether or not he wants me to come back? I’m literally down the street.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask.” Lance nodded and turned away. “Yo, _primo._ ” Lance turned around expecting another joke. Instead, Beto said, “You’re pretty brave. With college and shit. Now this. You really are the good one.” Lance’s mouth fell open. Was Beto drunk? “You need anything, I got you. I don’t got my life together but… I can spare a few beer cartons to spend on you instead to help you out. Everyone knows you deserve it more.”

Lance frowned and walked back over to him. “You okay, Beto?” He scoffed and nodded, his posture falling into a crooked stance. “Thanks. It means a lot.” And it really did. He never saw it as being brave. All he could see was failure. But here was his cousin, telling him he was still the good kid. “I’m here for you too, man.” He held his fist out and Beto ignored it, going for his shoulder instead with a dopey smile. Before he left, he hesitated. “Actually… there is something you can help me with….” Beto raised an eyebrow. “I kind of need a fake date.”

There was a long pause. Then, “Fuck no, I’m not pretending to date you, bro, I draw a fucking line at-”

“ _Not you,_ pendejo!” Lance snapped. “I meant a girl.” Beto furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “It’s a long story. But… please?”

“I mean… I’ll check with my people.” Lance nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. He left, vaguely hearing him mutter, “Fuckin’ weird kid.”

Lance walked back home and was surprised to see Keith’s Altima parked outside. Confused, he went into his house and found him playing Chopped: Play-Doh Edition with Emily. He was molding Play-Doh with Alexia, smiling as Emily made comments as a judge. Jackie was eating a Pop-Tart and watching the television. Jorge was nowhere to be seen.

“Uh, hey?” Keith looked over his shoulder and smiled at him like he’d lassoed the moon.

“Hey!”

“Jackie, where’s Bobo?”

“Room,” she answered with disinterest.

Keith managed to get away from the girls and walked over to Lance. He was wearing the jacket again. Lance wondered if it wasn’t dangerous for him to wear that in this weather. He wondered how he dealt with wearing it. “What are you doing here?” Lance asked him with a smile.

“Wanted to surprise you. Surprise!” Lance chuckled and gestured to the backyard. Keith followed him and greeted the dogs with so much enthusiasm, it was hard to correlate this Keith with the one from Saturday night. Once the dogs calmed down, he walked over to Lance and took his hand. The surprise left him short-circuiting for a few seconds. “So where did we leave off?” Then he was pressed against one of the walls of the house and Keith was looking at him with eyes that held galaxies in the middle of the day and smile that was so wonderful he couldn’t bear to be the one to make it go away.

But he was leaning in and gripping his hands and Lance couldn’t do it.

He pulled away nervously and shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered.

“Oh. I thought….”

“I want to, Keith. I really do. But I can’t. It’s… it’s personal, okay?” Keith sucked his teeth with a pop sound and shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.

Lance bit his lip and grabbed his elbow gently. “You don’t have to hide with me,” he whispered. “It’s too hot for you be wearing this. Come on, we’ll sit in the hammock, give you space to breathe.” Keith looked at him with cheeks red from embarrassment and eyes filled with sadness. But he followed Lance to the hammock and sat beside him. Lance swung his legs as Keith took off his jacket and tried not to stare at the imprint of a hand on his arms.

After a few moments of silence, Lance mustered the courage to ask. “So… Hunk told me something. And I kind of want to know what he meant or… if it was even true.” Keith tensed beside him. “He said you’d cheated on your boyfriend before. That’s why he’s paranoid about… you and me.” It didn’t seem right to say “us.” There was no “us.” Keith didn’t answer and just glared angrily at the house. “Is… is it true?”

Keith’s jaw muscle jumped and he tore his eyes away to stare at one of the neighbor’s cats. “If it was, would this be my fault?”

“No.” Keith looked at him, as if trying to figure out if he was lying. “I want to know what happened. Why you did it if you did.”

Keith took a deep breath and looked away. “Yeah. I did. It was about… four months after he started hitting me all the time. And I’d met someone in college. I thought… I don’t know I thought he’d let me leave if I explained I didn’t love him. I thought if I had someone else, it’d be easier to leave.” Keith gulped and grabbed Lance’s hand. He lifted it to his head, making Lance thread his fingers through the soft, thick hair.

And then he felt it. The jagged line, the indent of his skull, the bumps of what must have been stitches. He fought the urge to pull his hand away, instead focusing on warmth of Keith’s. “That day was the worst it’s ever been. I swear he wanted to kill me. I managed to tell him I didn’t mean it before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital and he was asleep in a chair, holding my hand.” Keith laughed humorlessly. “He told them I fell down the stairs at the apartment complex.” He sniffed and shrugged. “I figured it was pointless. I broke up with the other guy, and Michael… he intensified. He checked my messages, checked the miles on my car to be sure I hadn’t taken detours. He checked my emails, my school groups. He actually drove down every day for two weeks from his school.

“As for why I did it? Well… I don’t love him. I don’t want to be with him, and I haven’t wanted to since the first time he beat me until I was shaking on the ground. If I hadn’t been afraid I wouldn’t have done it. I’d have broken up with him. But like I said, he… he literally doesn’t let me.”

Lance interlocked their fingers and laid back in the hammock, pulling Keith beside him. Their weights made them press close together in the center, but Lance didn’t mind. Keith smelled like a bonfire. Smoky but in a comforting way. And a hint of shampoo and spearmint.

A few quiet seconds later, Keith looked up and Lance caught his violet eyes. “I want to be with you, Lance. And I know you want to be with me. Right?” Lance nodded slowly. “I know cheating is wrong. I’m not looking for a rush or something like that. I just… I can’t get rid of him. But I don’t want that stopping this… whatever this is.”

Lance licked his lips nervously and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “We’re going to figure this out, Keith. You’re not going to be trapped forever, I promise.” Keith grit his teeth and furrowed his eyebrows. Lance wrapped his other arm around him.

When Keith dipped his head, Lance couldn’t help himself. He pressed his lips against his forehead and pushed his hair back. Keith sighed softly, but he didn’t lift his head. Lance was grateful. He might have done something stupid if he had.

For a while, they laid there, swinging slowly on the hammock, hand in hand. Lance ran his fingers over the bruises on Keith’s arms as lightly as he could, and with each passing minute, he could feel Keith relaxing into him.

The sun had finally relented. It was darker, a single star visible despite the city lights. He could hear screeching tires in the distance probably from idiots making donuts in the corner store parking lot. It was hot, but Lance didn’t want to leave Keith’s side. He knew his mom had come home. He’d heard her open the door to the backyard, but then it closed and no one was there.

Just as he was about to tell Keith to wait there while he greeted his mom, Keith made a strange sound. Lance furrowed his eyebrows and another strange sound ensued. Like the beginning of the beginning of a word. Not even a full syllable. Just a squeak.

Then finally, as Keith’s hand tightened around Lance’s, he asked, “Is it because I disgust you?”

“What?” he breathed.

Keith curled further into himself, letting go of Lance’s hand in the process. “Why you won’t kiss me. I understand having morals, but… this is a different situation. And you said it was personal. Are you just disgusted by me? By the marks on my skin? By how weak I am? Or because you know Michael can do what he wants to me, and you can’t stand that idea? That I’m used? Is that the real reason, you just don’t want to hurt my feelings? Because if it is, you should just say so,” he spat.

“Keith,” Lance said sadly. He sat up and look at him, tense and angry as he covered his arms with his hands. “No. None of that is anywhere close to the truth. How could you ever think that?” Keith wouldn’t look at him. Had he really thought of all those reasons right then and there? “Keith, I don’t think you’re used or weak or disgusting. No, I can’t stand that that asshole does what he wants to you, but that makes _him_ the pig not you.” He placed a hand on his hand, but he may have moved too fast because he noticed Keith flinch. It was subtle, but he noticed it, and it made his heart break. “Keith… you’re _beautiful_. What’s been done to you is horrible, but I’m not blaming you or disgusted by you. But I don’t want to put you in more danger by agreeing to a secret relationship. And the cheating thing-”

“Yo, _primo!”_ they heard. Keith sat up and scrambled for his jacket when he saw someone coming towards them. Lance furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Beto coming toward him. “This the guy? _Eh, tienes buen gusto, primo,”_ he teased with loud laughter. Keith stared at Lance in confusion.

“What are you doing here, Beto?”

“Like… five different things, cuz. I’m here cuz Tia Dani said dinner’s ready. She told me to get you and your… friend to go in. Also, I brought a friend about that thing you asked earlier. And also, Papo’s here. Oh and I want food. So like, four things.” He shrugged and looked over at Keith. “Sup, man. I’m Beto.”

“Papo’s here?” he asked, feeling the earth sway beneath him. His grandfather was here. Keith was here. And some girl meant to be his fake date was here. It was too much at once, and Lance had no idea how he was supposed to handle it.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Keith mumbled, tugging his jacket closed without zipping it up.

“What’s your name, man? Lance never told me.”

“I’m Keith,” he answered with a confused tone.

Then suddenly there was another voice. “Beto, what the fuck is taking you so long! Ma wants everyone at the table, hurry the fuck up!”

“Yo man, Bobo got a mouth on him. When’d he turn into such a dipshit?” Beto muttered. “Alright, for real, I’m starving so leggo.” He turned away and walked back into the house.

“Um, what’s happening?” Keith asked nervously.

Lance put his face in his hands. Dinner was going to be very interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

The first half of dinner was fine. Papo and Buela were there, with Emily and Alexia on their laps. Beto was standing next to a pretty girl with long curly brown hair and a line of piercings along her ear. Keith remained close to Lance as everyone bustled around to sit at the table. Tia Carla and Tio Ramon had brought their younger kids as well, so although half of Lance’s family was missing, it was a full house.

It must have been new to Keith, seeing so many people in one place, all related. The apprehension was clear in Papo and Buela’s face when they saw Keith. Lance had an overwhelming urge to shield him from their eyes.

But Alexia immediately scrambled off Buela’s leg and pulled Keith’s hand. “ _ Cabito sienta con yo _ ,” she said, tugging him to a seat and claiming the one beside him.

“Keith mijo, you hungry? Have as much as you’d like, there’s plenty to go around,” Mom assured, patting his shoulder. She didn’t question the jacket.

“I was actually going to go,” he said awkwardly. “It looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-”

“Oh hush,” Tia Carla told him. “Every dinn

er is a ‘family’ thing. Have you seen how many of us there are? Sit down and eat.” She tucked his hair behind his ear, and Lance noticed him freeze, a gentle blush filling his cheeks.

While she called the kids to the table, Lance took the seat on the other side of Keith. “You okay?” Keith nodded with a gentle smile. A smile that caused Lance’s heart to stutter and speed up.

Lance felt like a goldfish, with all the adults glancing at him and Keith. Meanwhile Keith was trying to communicate with Alexia who kept trying to tell him to roll her tortilla in Spanish.

“ _ Cabito, taquito mi tortilla, po’favor _ ,” she whined. She smacked her hands together, but Keith looked lost and confused.

“Um, Keith?” Lance whispered. He grabbed another tortilla and rolled it up. “That’s what she wants you to do for her.”

“Oh,” he said. He did so and Alexia smiled joyously before tearing into her food. Keith chuckled then looked at Lance. “Why does she keep saying cabito?”

Lance smiled. “That’s what she calls you. It’s how she says  _ caballito _ , which is horse.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Alexia, pulling her hair back from where it fell into her food.

Buela and Papo didn’t speak much. The conversation was mostly run my Tia Carla and her gossip, with Keith laughing more than Lance had ever seen him laugh before. He kept fussing over Alexia, not contributing to the conversation, but completely entertained by it.

Lance enjoyed seeing his mom with her sisters. It was always a party when they were together, with loud, albeit obnoxious laughter, jokes, and conversation. Lance could almost see his mother when she was younger, wearing waist-high jeans, oversized shirts, and lips coated in red lip-pencil. Before she had to drop out of school, before she had to go into house-cleaning, before the strain of the years had left worn lines on a face that had always looked younger than she was. When she was with Tia Carla or Tia Lourdes, she was different. It was like her worries were gone. She was young, playful and naïve again.

During their conversation, Lance noticed his grandparents casting side-eye glances at him and Keith. They glanced at Beto with his pretty friend too, but Lance and Keith were definitely the spotlight at the moment.

Lance noticed Keith subtly fanning himself, moving his off the nape of his neck for the sake of some breeze. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but he Lance knew he wouldn’t take off his jacket.

“Why are you wearing that? It’s summer,” Jorge asked, his voice flat as he looked at Keith with distaste.

Keith’s eyes widened a bit, but he just shrugged. “I get cold easy.”

“It’s like 80 degrees in here.”

“It’s 98 outside,” Jackie supplied while scrolling through her phone.”

“Jorge, eat. Leave Keith alone.”

Jorge stared at his mother and scoffed. “Seriously? If I wore a sweater right now, you’d be yelling at me telling me I was crazy to be wearing it right now, I mean seriously?” She gave him a hard, cold stare, a warning. Jorge rolled his eyes and picked at his food.

Keith seemed a little less enthusiastic, but when Lance’s mom placed a glass of icy cold homemade lemonade in front of him, he looked relieved. As the awkwardness of Jorge’s comment faded, Tia Carla clapped her hands and took a breath.

“Okay, okay, I can’t wait anymore. I have to tell you.” She sat up straighter, everyone’s eyes on her. She looked at her husband before continuing. “I’ve decided to sell the restaurant.”

Papo’s fork clattered. He’d built that restaurant with his bare hands when he was young, and he’d given it to Tia Carla when she first got pregnant. That was meant to be a family restaurant. Even if it shut down, it was meant to be a memory.

“I know, it sounds crazy, but listen. With what I get from selling it, I can open a salon, do nails, do hair. Less paychecks to write, more tips would come in. More to help Lance get back to school, and I’ll be doing what I love!” Lance was aware of everyone above the age of sixteen looking distressed at the news. The kids were simply making a mess of their food.

“That restaurant isn’t yours to sell,” Papo answered gruffly.

“Yes it is. You changed the lease. It has my name on it,” she answered. “I’m making a business decision, I’m not asking permission.”

“You think people are going to trust a Mexican to do their nails?” he spat. “That’s for Asian people!”

“Papo!” Jackie snapped. “God, that’s not true! And slightly racist.”

“What do you expect, he’s like seventy something,” Lance grumbled. “Old fashioned.”

“Oh, don’t you start with me  _ cabron.  _ You’ve brought this boy home already?” Keith froze and stared at Lance.

“This  _ boy  _ is just my friend, which you’d know if you let me explain instead of kicking me out!” he yelled. “God, do you ever support anyone? You kicked Mom out the house when she got pregnant with me, you’re the one who told Esme and Vane to go away for good if they were going to make stupid choices, you don’t support Tia Carla when she’s actually trying to do what she wants, and you suddenly want to disown me because I like guys!”

There was a series of gasps around the table, mainly from the kids, and one from his Tio who didn’t know. “Lance likes  _ boys?  _ He’s a gay?” One of the kids yelled. Lance wasn’t sure which. He was too focused on his grandfather.

“Lance,  _ calmate,  _ this is not the place or time,” his mother warned.

“When will it be?” he asked, his voice breaking. “All they do is judge and complain, but they refuse to change their mindset. They don’t even try to understand why Carlos got in a gang, why Vane wanted to get married so young, why Benny doesn’t talk to any of us, why Esme disappeared instead of having us support her. They don’t try to understand what Tia Carla wants, or what it’s like for you, Ma, to raise all four of us on your own. And they sure as hell don’t try to understand that it’s possible to fall for someone as a person instead of their physical aspects!” He ran a hand through his hair. “For once in your life, could you both just be supportive? Give Tia a chance! Stop looking at me like I’m infected with an incurable, infectious disease!”

“Lance, enough!” his mother snapped. “You don’t talk to your grandparents like that.” He huffed and sat back, vaguely aware of Keith’s nervous, uncertain glances around the table. His hand rested reassuringly on Lance’s forearm. “Carla.  _ Manita,  _ are you sure about this? How do you know you’ll have enough?”

Tia Carla nodded. “I went over the numbers several times. I know I can do this. The girls can work with me. Lance can clean. Or he could get another job, if he’d prefer. I know I can make a profit-”

“I built that place from scratch,” Papo grumbled. “My hands endured blisters and cuts for that restaurant to go up, and I won’t have you selling it!”

“ _ Papa, porfavor!”  _ she yelled. “This is my choice!”

“You have never made a good choice in your life! You took over the restaurant, and now it’s losing business, you didn’t go to school, you dropped out in high school with just a year of that useless makeup class and you think you can run a salon with that? You don’t know what you’re doing, and you never have, Carla, you’re naïve! Leave the business to me.”

Tears spilled from her wide, unblinking eyes. Her lower lip quivered and the slightest sound of a sob squeaked through her pursed lips before she stood up. She grabbed her purse and started pulling her children unceremoniously from their chairs. “ _ Vamonos,  _ we’re going home,” she spat. “Ramon, let’s go.”

“But,  _ mami,  _ we’re eating!”

“I’ll make something at home, let’s go!” she yelled. “Beto, you make sure Nina gets home safe.” The tears running down her cheeks were enough for the kids to realize they shouldn’t talk back and after quick, uneasy goodbye hugs, they left, except for Beto and Nina.

Lance looked at Keith, prepared to apologize in embarrassment only to find him cradling Alexia in his arms, his eyes screwed shut his jaw clenched as he rocked her back and forth. Alexia looked sad and slightly afraid as she clung to him, but Keith looked tense.

Beto was yelling. Lance didn’t think he’d ever heard him yell before. Not like this. “Who do you think you are? My mom has worked hard all her life, while you sit on your ass and let your grandsons do the work in your shop for you! Yeah, you’re our Papo, but you don’t disrespect my  _ jefa  _ like that.”

“ _ Quien chingados te crees tu, malcriado?  _ You want to talk about respect? You were the first one to turn into a mess because your mother never learned how to handle you!  _ Pinche borracho.” _

Suddenly Beto was up, and the scrape of the chair made Keith jump beside Lance. Part of him wanted to get Keith away, to calm him down. But the other wasn’t sure if he was needed here with his family. If he’d be needed to calm his siblings, to hold his cousin back, to get order back.

“If I turned into a mess, it wasn’t because of my parents!” he yelled, his face red. “Lance is right, it’s always you! You drive us away, you mess us up with this idea that we have to be perfect or we’re going to hell! If I started drinking it was because dealing with you all the time was what fucked me up!”

“Beto!” Daniela yelled at him. “Enough! That’s enough, enough, enough! No more screaming! Kids, go to bed. Beto, go home. Papa, Mama…. Go. Please. This is not what this dinner should have been.” She was doing her best to keep herself together. Lance could see that.

He stood and leaned over to Keith. “Hey, I’m going to help with my siblings real quick okay? I’ll be right back.” Keith nodded, his remaining shut. Alexia squirmed to get out of his grasp and took Lance’s hand as he led her to her room, gave her some PJ’s and put her to bed.

When Lance came back, he saw Jorge arguing with his mom. “It’s his fault! He’s the one yelling at Papo, making a big deal! And for what? For that guy? You don’t treat Lance like you treat us.”

“Lance is an adult. He’s been on his own-”

“Oh, and that worked out great didn’t it?” he snapped.

She snapped her fingers and raised a hand, but Jorge stared at her.  _ “Ya callate. _ ”

Her narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin. “Are you trying to hit me?” Daniela lowered her hand and stared Jorge down. “Next time, go ahead. I don’t even care anymore.” He turned away, shoving past Lance to get to his room.

“Ma?” She was crying, but she was angry. There was something about the set of her eyebrows when she cried that always left Lance with an unsettling stomach ache, but her anger was more prevalent, and he wasn’t sure how to go about calming her down.

“I’ll talk to you later. Go check on Keith. He’s on the patio.” Lance nodded and he went to the patio.

Keith was staring at the ground, his expression unreadable. “Keith?” Lance whispered. He turned slightly and gave him a half-hearted smile. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you’re okay, I know you’re not.”

Keith looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “What do you want me to do? Cry? Fuss over how traumatized I am? Complain again about how trapped I feel? I’ve told you all of that, and there’s obviously nothing either of us can do about it.”

“That’s not true,” Lance insisted, stepping closer. Keith glared at him, but Lance didn’t back down. “I don’t know what’s happening with my family right now. Jorge is different. My grandparents don’t like who I am. There’s fighting all the time. Right now, you’re keeping me sane. Hanging out with you, talking to you, seeing your friends at the restaurant, that’s what’s keeping from crumbling under this bullshit right now. So let me help you too. Even if it’s just complaining, even if it’s you crying, or us fantasizing about life if it had taken a different route. Please.”

Keith stared at him for a second before leaning into him. Lance wrapped his arms around him and suddenly Keith was shaking in his arms. He wasn’t crying. But he was curled into himself, making himself smaller in Lance’s arms. “I hate this. I want to be free,” he growled through clenched teeth. “He’s ruined my life. I don’t feel like myself anymore. I don’t…. I don’t know what I can do, Lance.”

“Um.” They both started and broke apart, to find Beto at the bottom step of the patio. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But Lance, Nina…. Um.” He hesitated before he ran a hand through his messy hair and shrugged. “I can help,” he muttered.

“With what?” Keith asked, his voice nervous, guarded.

Beto looked at him with an angry expression. “My old man used to hit my  _ jefa  _ when I was little. It didn’t stop until he left her for someone else and she found Ramon.” Keith gulped and stepped closer to Lance. “I used to take boxing when I was Lance’s age. Carlos taught me some shit too. I can help you.” He stepped up until he was in front of them. “Lance, this is Nina’s number.” He wrote in a sharpie on his arm and then turned to Keith. “This is mine.” He pushed up his sleeve slightly, but Keith didn’t seem to mind. “Tell your ma I’m sorry.” He turned away and went to his car, driving off.

“Do you think that could help?”

Keith looked at his arm. “The last time I fought back….” He gulped. “I don’t know. But I don’t have any other choices.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I should go. Also… Nina?”

Lance’s face reddened. “Um, yeah. I sort of lied to Hunk and said I met a girl. He told me I should take her to that party so I asked Beto to help me find a fake date. Hunk got the idea that there’s something between us so… I decided to throw him off.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “You’re… something.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Lance nodded. Keith put a hand on his cheek then leaned in to kiss the other. Without another word, he left and got into his car.

When he went back inside, his mother was on the couch, looking older than ever. She looked at him then looked away, that same tired, thoughtful expression on her face. “You know I’m upset with you. The way you talked to your grandfather.”

Lance kicked at the ground. “Yeah. But I won’t apologize,” he whispered. She looked at him with dark, angry eyes, but Lance spoke first. “I know, he’s my grandpa, I should respect him, I know. But I’ve spent so long keeping quiet when people shove me around or say degrading things, and I’m tired, Ma. Being away from home, and the little college experience I had, I started getting used to standing up for myself. To speaking up. I don’t want to stop just because it’s family. That’s when I need to speak up most. You saw how he talked to me, to Tia, to Beto. You know I was right. Yeah, I said it the wrong way, but… it had to be said.”

She regarded him with a tired expression. “You still need to apologize to him. You know that.” Lance nodded. “And you should talk to your brother. Lately… I don’t what to do about him.” She stood and started for her room before turning back. “Is Keith okay?” Lance nodded. “Goodnight.” 

“Night, Ma,” he muttered as she left. He sighed and went to Jorge’s room, knocking gently on the door. There was no response, so he tried the knob, but it was locked. “Bobo, it’s me. Open up.” 

“I don’t want to talk. Leave me alone,” he answered. Lance heard some classic rock music start playing.

He knocked again, jiggling the door knob. “Jorge come on. What’s going on? I heard you talking to Mom-”

“ _ I said, leave me alone!”  _ he called back. 

There was something about his voice. Something not right. Something that made the hair on Lance’s neck stand. “Jorge, open the door right now, or I swear I’ll break it down. Please, little dude, come on.” He tried the doorknob again. “We’ll just talk like we used to. Remember, when we’d wake up after Mom left for work, and lay out blankets to watch Harry Potter?” 

The door swung open, but what Lance wasn’t expecting was the hard, angry shove he received. “Just because everyone else is sick of your shit, you want to come begging me to talk? No. Fuck off, and leave me alone Lance, I’m not a little kid anymore!” He slammed the door and Lance stared in shock. 

He remembered when his brother was the sweetest kid anyone could know. The way he fussed over Jackie when she was born, or over Emily. He remembered the way he always wanted to tag along if Lance went to the park with friends, and how Lance lost him once because he was playing soccer and had left him at the swings. Jorge had been getting a popsicle. Two, actually. One for him, and one for Lance. He remembered when they had to share a room because Buela got sick and stayed with them.

Somewhere in the last couple of years, Jorge had changed. And it could’ve been blamed on puberty or the transition into high school, but… Lance knew his brother. He knew this wasn’t just testosterone talking. 

If he was honest, he hadn’t really noticed that change until that second. Until he heard the anger in his voice, saw it in his eyes. Until he’d slammed the door in his face. And it wasn’t just with Lance. It was with their mother too. 

Resigned, he shuffled to his room and fell into an uneasy sleep. 

**

The rest of the week had gone by before Lance could really process it. Suddenly, it was the weekend and he was helping Tio Ramon with the  _ carne asada  _ outside. He felt sticky from the humid evening, but he didn’t mind too much. It was nice to be there with his family. Most of it at least. Buela and Papo still hadn’t come around, even though Dani had already called and invited them for morning coffee once, and even Tia Carla had suggested going to dinner during the week. They refused both, claiming to be busy. 

So it was just Lance’s aunts, uncles, and cousins. That was plenty of people. And still, everyone could feel the absence of Papo and Buela. 

Jorge hadn’t spoken to Lance except to relay messages. Jackie said this, Mom said that, Tio needs this. No real conversation. No apologies. It was tense and awkward. 

Through the week, Lance had applied for three scholarships and entered ten drawings for money on a scholarship site. He never won, but it was worth a shot. He felt he had a right to relax on his Friday night and drink a beer or two with his uncles. They’d seem to take his sexuality rather well, whether because they preferred to pretend it wasn’t a thing or because their wives had threatened them not to make Lance feel bad, he wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t complaining. 

Beto had brought Nina, and Lance noticed he looked a little better. He was eating, and Lance couldn’t remember the last time he smelled beer on his breath until tonight. His hair looked washed, his facial hair shaved a little more. He was playing with his siblings, and Lance could tell even Tia Carla and Tio Ramon were surprised. Uneasy, but pleasantly surprised. 

The music, the drinking, the gossip for both men and women went on late into the night. The kids had fallen asleep, sharing beds for space until their parents went home. Beto had taken Nina home a few minutes ago. Lance had just sat down to watch television for a while when his phone rang. 

It was an unknown number. Lance ignored it and kept watching the television. His phone rang again, with that same unknown number. Curious, he answered. “Hello?”

“Lance, I need you.” Lance frowned and pressed his phone closer to his ear. “Lance? Are you there?” 

“Keith?” he breathed. “Wh-Where are you, what happened, are you okay?” His voice. Oh God, his voice was so broken. It didn’t even sound like him but it was and every part of Lance was tense and afraid. “Keith?” 

“I’m at a gas station. It’s close to my place. It’s a long story, but I can’t be here long. Meet me at the Walgreens on Little York, okay?” Lance had a million question, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them aloud. “Lance, I have to go, okay? Please be there.” 

“Ke- wait!” The call ended and Lance was left looking at a red screen in terror. He stood, dashing out of the house. “Mom? Mom?” he called. She was dancing with Tio Angel, her eyes bright with the beers she’d had through the night. “Mom, I need the car, it’s an emergency,” he pleaded, as he pulled her aside. “Please, Ma, it’s Keith.” She frowned and nodded. 

“The keys are on the table. Be careful.” He nodded and ran back inside.

It took everything in him not to speed down the streets. He couldn’t get to the stupid corner store fast enough. He was the only car there, and he sat there for a few minutes, panicking. He didn’t even have a way to call Keith. Where the hell was his phone? What had happened to him? Nerves were eating away at Lance, and he bit his nails anxiously, unable to stop his knee from bobbing. 

There was a tap at his window that made him jump. When his eyes focused, his stomach dropped. It was Keith… but it wasn’t. He opened the door and took his bleeding, swollen face in his hands. “Keith, what? What did he do to you?” he breathed, as tears stung his eyes. 

“We have to go. We have to go, he’s going to be looking for me,” he croaked. He pushed his hands away and went around to the passenger side. Lance got back in and drove away from the store, stopping a few blocks down near a club. There were plenty of cars there, they could easily blend in. And there were lights. 

He turned to Keith and whimpered at the sight of him. His lip was cut and swollen, blood matted his hair against his temple, and his nose was bleeding. His cheekbone was bruised, and he looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. “Keith,” he murmured sadly. 

“It looks worse than it feels,” he groaned. He gulped and took a breath. “He saw Beto’s number on my arm. It was faded, but he could tell it was a number. He lost it.” He groaned and leaned against the window. “I couldn’t stay. He’ll go looking for me, if my friends call, answer, pretend you were asleep, and say you haven’t talked to me since this morning.” Lance stared at him, hating the scarlet color of the blood dripping down his face. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

“How am I supposed to look at you? Like I’m overjoyed? Like I’m happy? Like this is at all okay?” Keith took a shaky breath and looked away. “I’m taking you to my place. My mom knows, she can help clean you up.” 

“She knows?” he whispered. 

“I had to explain how my grandfather found out I liked guys and how that tied into our friendship. My mom’s good about keeping to herself. It’ll be okay.” He didn’t talk as they got to the house. Lance waited for him to get out before leading him inside. All his aunts and uncles were in the backyard, singing along drunkly to music, laughing obnoxiously. Lance could hear them from the bathroom. “I’ll be back, let me get my-”

“No,” Keith said, gripping his hand. “No, Lance. Please. I can barely stand having you see me like this, I don’t want anyone else to see.” Lance’s eyebrows furrowed and he nodded, sitting Keith on the edge of the tub and falling to his knees as he grabbed the first aid kit under the sink. 

He wiped his face clean of blood. He had to wash some of his hair as well because it was smeared from one particularly bad hit. That couldn't have been a fist. Lance didn't think he wanted to know what it had been.  When Keith was clean, he set to disinfecting his cuts with hydrogen peroxide. Keith winced and screwed his eyes shut, only Lance’s soft shushing to soothe him. Keith’s hands were shaking, but Lance wasn’t sure if it was because of fear, because of anger, or because of the pain. Then he gently smeared some anti-inflammatory ointment on his bruises and cuts, covering what he could with band-aids. 

“Here, I can loan you something to sleep in, okay?” Keith stayed seated on the tub, glaring at the floor. “Keith?” 

Violet eyes flickered to him sadly before he stood and pulled off his shirt. Lance audibly gasped and stayed frozen in his spot. His stomach and chest were covered in angry welts. Slowly, Lance walked over to him and ran his finger over one that curved over his shoulder and down his collar bone. “What did he do to you?” he whispered.

Keith's voice was flat, his expression angry. “He said he'd make sure no one else wanted me. That I'd learn my lesson for trying to hurt him.” Lance shook his head, appalled to find several of the angry lashes had broken through skin and the blood had crusted. “He used a cord. I managed to trip him and I hit him with a wok.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Then I ran to the gas station and called you and… had to leave before he looked for me there.” 

“You're not going back,” Lance decided, gritting his teeth. 

“I have to. I'm not going to run away. I'm not going to let him control me like that-” 

“He'll kill you, Keith, no. You don't have to go back!” 

“Yes, I do. That's  _ my  _ apartment.  _ My  _ home. He can't run me out. I won't let him.” Keith's voice was strong beneath the tired breaths, his eyes determined though melancholic. 

“Why do you have to be so stubborn, Mullet?” Lance choked before covering his face. “Sit down. Let me help you.” 

After the tedious task of coating each injury, Lance brought Keith some PJs and led him to his room. “You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch. Sorry it's a mess.” Keith shook his head and sat on the bed. He was silent for a while. 

Then, as Lance started to walk back, he said, “Lance. Could you maybe ask Beto to come over tomorrow?” Lance nodded and Keith pulled his knees up to his chest. He stared out the window, tensing each time headlights swept the room. 

Lance sat beside him and took his hand. “Hey. You're safe here. You're safe with me. I promise.” Keith didn't answer but he leaned into him. 

They sat in silence for a while, Lance wasn't sure how long, but he noticed Keith relax completely, head hanging, hand loose in his own, and realized he was asleep. Lance laid him down, covered him up, and shut the door as he left. 

He grabbed a few blankets to sleep on the couch and, although he didn't normally pray, he found himself praying with all his might to help Keith out of the hell he was in. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, long time no post... I hope I still have some readers that didn't give up on this one!!
> 
> A huge thanks to Arin for commissioning this piece from Tumblr. <3

The sharp ring of a phone ripped through the silence of the house. Lance jerked up, a cold chill spreading through him as his brain woke up enough to process the fact that his phone was ringing. He fumbled for it and answered before looking to see who it was.

“Hello?” he said groggily.

“Hey Lance, sorry to wake you, but have you seen Keith?” Lance remained quiet and pulled himself into a proper sitting position. “Hello?”

“Hey, yeah, sorry I'm still waking up. What do you mean have I seen him?”

Shiro sighed and cleared his throat. “Michael's been looking for him all night. He said they had an argument then Keith lost it and hit him before running out.”

Lance's blood boiled. That sick son of a bitch was actually pinning the blame on Keith? And when his friends saw how hurt he was? What would the excuse be then? He reigned in his anger and scoffed. “You don't actually believe that, do you? I don't know Keith as well as you, but he's not violent. And if he ran off without his phone to contact you, maybe you should ask what he was running from.”

There was a beat of silence then Shiro asked in a soft voice, “How do you know he doesn't have his phone?”

Lance sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. “Logical deduction. I'm assuming you've all tried calling him and he would at least call you of he had it.”

Another silence. Then, “Look, Keith is like my brother. Can you just promise me he's safe? That he's okay?”

Lance bit his lip before replying, “Yeah. He is now.” Then he hung up because he didn't know if they'd look for him or if he'd fucked up or what Shiro thought of everything. If Shiro told Hunk, Hunk would probably find Keith because he'd been to the house before. Lance just hoped his memory wasn't good.

He laid back down, putting his phone on silent. But he couldn't sleep anymore. He tossed and turned and fussed, waiting for that ominous knock on the door.

Instead, he heard footsteps. He glanced up and saw Keith's silhouette moving toward the kitchen. The light came on and Lance sat up as he listened to the light thud of cabinets being opened and then the sound of water coming from the fridge.

Once the cup clattered into the sink a few moments later, he saw Keith coming back. “Keith?”

“Oh! Jesus, Lance.” Lance bit back a smile. “Sorry did I wake you?”

He frowned and shook his head. “No, I've been awake for a bit. Why are you awake?”

He stepped closer to the couch and Lance pulled his feet into his chest for Keith to sit. “Nightmare,” he answered as he sat. Lance was relieved to see his injuries weren't swollen anymore.

“I didn't hear you.”

Keith shrugged. “I'm not really loud about my nightmares. I just sort of wake up in a panic.” Lance didn't respond but he kept his eyes on him. The moonlight made him look silver.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he murmured. Keith smiled and shook his head. “Well, since neither of us can sleep, how about some Spanish lessons? I’m afraid you’ve been slacking.” Keith scoffed and bit back a smile, shifting where he sat so he was facing Lance.

“Try me. I’ve been using Duolingo too.” Lance laughed, covering his mouth to stifle the sound.

He began giving Keith basic words to translate, their hushed whispers seeming a thousand times louder in the silence. “Well you’re pretty good, Mullet. Soon you’ll be an honorary Latino.” Keith smiled, causing creases to form on the side of his eyes and a small dimple to form on his right cheek.

“So how’s the college stuff going? Do you know if they’ll let you back in?”

“Not yet. I’ve written to the dean, the president, the founder. I don’t know if they’re getting my emails, but I’m resending them weekly. I just… I know there’s nothing wrong with community college, or with U of H, but… after the big fuss I made about getting out of here and everyone being impressed because it’s a private school, and….” He sighed and shrugged. “I don’t want to give up on it.”

“I understand,” he answered. “You wanted to get out of the place you’ve been trapped in all your life. You want something more.” Lance looked at Keith sadly, wishing he could kiss away every single bruise and cut that marred his face. “I get it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Lance spoke again. “Jorge isn’t that bad,” he whispered. Keith looked over at him in confusion. “I know it seems like he’s just an asshole, but he’s not. When we were little, he was seriously the sweetest kid you could meet. He went with me everywhere, and sometimes it was annoying but… we were the only boys, you know? I was always dreading the day I had to leave him here, because I know how hard it is to be in charge of everyone else.”

“I never thought he was an asshole,” Keith murmured. “I just figured he was protective of you. Trying to keep me in line or something.”

Lance shook his head. “No he’s never been like that. He was always… all smiles and jokes. Like me. With anyone he met. It’s not just you right now. He’s been acting up with me, with my mom. And I’m worried. He won’t talk to me, and I don’t know why. I remember high school. I remember the stupid shit I did there. The stuff I got pressured into, or the stuff I hid from home. I’m scared he’s going through the same and he won’t talk to any of us.”

“Well, if I can offer any advice at all, it’d be this: don’t give up on him. When I was in my foster homes that was the one thing I’d hope for each time. That I wouldn’t be too much of something- too shy, too troubling, too awkward, too distant, too needy. Anything so they wouldn’t give up on me.”

Lance was always caught off guard when Keith mentioned his past like that. The foster homes, the lack of family. He was so put together, it was usually a reality check for Lance. “I’m not a person who gives up on people,” he answered. “Especially my brother. I just wish he’d stop pushing me away.” Keith’s hand slid into his. Lance looked at him and Keith offered him a smile. Then he yawned and leaned his head on the couch. “You should go to bed,” he chuckled. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

Keith groaned and shut his eyes. “What am I supposed to say when your siblings ask about my face?” he whispered.

Lance’s heart tightened and he had to fight the urge to pull Keith into his arms and keep him there so nothing could ever hurt him again. How could someone so beautiful have such an ugly life?

He squeezed his hand and smiled. “I’ll make something up. Don’t worry. I’ll get you in the morning, yeah?” Keith nodded and stood, ruffling Lance’s hair before shuffling back to the room.

***

The next morning, Lance woke up to someone spritzing water on his face. He groaned and opened his eyes to find Jorge with his hand in a cup of water, flicking it at Lance.

“Bobo, what the fuck?” he muttered, jutting his arm out to hit him.

“Why are you on the couch?”

“Why do you care?” he grumbled. Suddenly water splashed against his face and he sat up, gasping. “I’m going to kill you!” he shouted, lunging for his brother. But Jorge was quick and he was out of his reach before Lance could fully stand.

He started chasing him around the house, managing to bring him into a headlock. “Get off!” he shouted.

“You shouldn’t have thrown water on me, you little shit!”

“What the hell are you two doing?” their mom snapped as she left her room. She looked exhausted, and she had a hand at her head. “ _Coño_ , I need you to stop yelling.”

“Hangover, Ma?” Lance teased. She gave him a cold look. Then his sisters came into the dining room, Emily and Alexia fighting each other to see who could get to the princess cup first.

Jackie came in looking like she was still asleep. “Those girls don’t understand the sanctity of Saturdays.”

“Call your tia Carla, tell her to bring some carnitas and barbacoa-”

“Wait no!” Lance yelped. She winced and glared at him. “Ma, Keith’s here, remember?” Her face sobered and she frowned. Lance could almost feel Jorge beginning to complain, so he held up a hand to stop him. “He needed some help yesterday. He’s a little.... Hurt. So can you guys just not comment on the injuries?”

“Hurt?” Jackie questioned, pulling Alexia into her lap as she prepared some chocolate milk for her.

“Kids, just don’t say anything okay?” Dani said. “I’ll make some pancakes. And I’ll explain to Alexia and Emily.” Lance nodded and went to his room, ignoring his brother’s glare.

He knocked and opened the door slightly. “Keith?”

“I’m awake,” he called back. Lance opened the door and found him sitting up in bed, reading one of his books. “Sorry, I woke up kind of early…. I should’ve asked, I’m sorry,” he said getting up to put the book away.

“Hey, it’s okay. Books are meant to be read.” Keith relaxed and chuckled nervously. “I talked to my siblings. I didn’t really explain, but they’ll leave you alone. So whenever you’re ready to come and eat some pancakes….” He stepped toward him and tilted his face up. “You mind if I reapply some ointment?” Keith shook his head.

Lance left then returned with a tube of ointment and a rag to clean his face again. He made sure to be gentle, afraid to put pressure. His brows furrowed in concentration and Keith chuckled, his breath warm against Lance’s hand. “You know, you make it really hard not to try to kiss you.”

Lance’s eyebrows shot up and he felt himself turn red as he tried to hide his embarrassment. He bit his lip and smiled at Keith. “Well it’s not easy for me either.” He covered the ointment and clasped his hands together. “There. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Okay,” he murmured as Lance walked out.

Once he shut the door, Lance allowed himself a wide dopey smile, and a full-on blush to coat his face. He rubbed his face then went to join his family, helping his mom make pancakes while his siblings set the table or served drinks.

A few moments later, Lance heard the inevitable gasp from his younger siblings. “ _Cabito tiene lele,_ Lansh,” Alexia screeched, coming into the kitchen with a panicked face. Dani looked at her and frowned as she tried to calm her down. Keith came into the kitchen, his face red, his eyes downcast.

Dani looked at him, her eyes going wide as she looked at Lance. Lance hoped the look in his eyes was pleading enough for her not to panic. She looked back at Keith and ushered Alexia to sit down. “ _Cariño,_ how many pancakes would you like?”

“Um, three?” he answered. She smiled and nodded. Only Lance could see the distress in her eyes. And when she turned away, facing the stove again, Lance saw her eyes welling with tears. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, I think we just about got it. Did you still want me to call Beto?” Keith nodded. “Okay. Well, here’s some pancakes that are ready, go ahead and take those over to the table.” Keith took the plate and left. When he did, Lance turned to his mom and touched her shoulder. “Ma?”

She shook her head. “It was like seeing Carla all over again, _mijo.”_ She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I’m fine. Go sit. I’ll finish.”

Lance bit his lip but did as he was told. He sat next to Keith who was eating self-consciously as Jorge and Jackie very obviously tried not to look at him. Then, “Are you Lance’s boy girlfriend?” Emily asked.

“Wh-what? Oh, no,” Keith chuckled nervously. “We’re just friends.”

“Boy girlfriend?” Jorge questioned.

“Yeah. Like a girlfriend, but a boy.”

“That’s boyfriend,” Lance pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re a boy, so you have girlfriends, and since you said you like boys, you can have boy girlfriends.” Keith and Lance stared at her, trying to find a response.

“It’s hard to argue with logic like that,” Jackie supplied. “But she has a point. I think we all thought you were dating. Lance hasn’t brought anyone home s-”

“I think we’ve fully established that we’re just friends, guys. Now can we eat in peace? Thanks,” he interrupted. He dug into his pancakes while Keith smirked at him. “Pass the syrup?”

Breakfast went by fine once Alexia stopped insisting on trying to put ice on Keith’s face and the talk of dating had subsided. Dani joined them and thankfully, the others didn’t seem so distraught by Keith’s injuries anymore.

While Lance was putting up the dishes, Jorge gave him a strange look, which stopped him in his tracks. Lance stared at his little brother who seemed like he wanted to ask something, but also didn’t want to sound like he cared.

Then-

“So he gets hit?” Lance heard Jackie stop washing dishes as she looked over her shoulder. Lance gulped and nodded. “Oh.” He looked away then left, leaving Lance feeling nostalgic for the moments when he and his brother were closer.

Jackie continued washing, and Lance joined Keith on the couch where he was watching a cartoon with Alexia and Emily. He pulled his phone out and messaged Beto to stop by later briefly explaining that Keith wanted to see him and that he was hurt. He didn’t say why, but he knew Beto would know. Then he sat next to Keith and gave him a smile.

He looked better than he had the day before. The bruises and cuts were still clearly visible, but they didn’t look so swollen and dirty anymore. Emily tugged on Lance’s arm and whispered into his ear, “You should ask him to be your boy girlfriend. He’s cute.”

Lance felt his face go red and he noticed Keith trying to suppress a smile, pretending he was watching the television. “I know right?” he whispered back. Keith broke into a full on smile and nudged his foot against Lance’s.

About half an hour later, after an episode of the girls’ favorite show, there was a knock on the door. Keith and Lance both tensed, but didn’t have time to tell Jorge to wait when he opened the door. “Oh, hey Beto. What’s up?”

“Lance texted me.” Jorge hummed and gestured to the couch. Keith relaxed a bit and Beto walked in with his easygoing smile. It faltered when he saw Keith. He didn’t say anything but his jaw clenched and his smile was gone. He greeted Lance by pulling him up into a half hug and gave Keith a fist bump. “I expected a call from you before, _vato_ ,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess I was building courage. I don’t think I have a choice now.” Beto nodded and tilted his chin. Keith scowled and pulled away. “I’m not running. I’m not hiding. My only choice is to fight back.” Emily jerked her head over at the words, confusion clear on her features.

“Girls, we’re gonna go outside okay? Stay inside, it’s hot,” Lance said. He nudged Keith and they stood, going out to the patio. “Personally, I don’t think he should go back. Tell me you agree.” Keith glared at Lance, but it faltered when he looked at Beto.

Beto looked at Keith, inspecting the injuries. “No shit, I agree,” he said. “But your little boo thing here probably won’t listen anyway.” Lance groaned and Keith shrugged. “I’m gonna help him, _primo._ Don’t worry. But if you wanna watch, you gotta keep to yourself. I don’t want you babying him.” Lance huffed and crossed his arms. “So… when we starting?”

“Soon? If I don’t get back… He’s going to look for me. And I’m tired. I don’t want this happening anymore. But it has to be foolproof. The last time I fought back, he just kept coming at me worse.”

Beto scowled, his lip curling in disgust. “Yeah, that’s what they do. Control. But you don’t seem like a dude who likes being controlled.” Keith kept his gaze steady on him, eyes narrowed. “We can go to my place. I got a workout room I haven’t used in months. I’ll have Nina go too, if you still need that fake date. Just so it’s not too awkward.”

Lance glanced at Keith but Keith just shrugged. Then he turned to Beto. “I don’t have a car right now. And that party is this coming week. I don’t know if he’ll wait all week for me to go back, or if he’ll go back to his classes.”

Before Beto answered, Lance said, “I’m gonna tell my mom we’re going. I’ll drive you.” He walked inside, leaving Keith with Beto.

His mom was doing laundry, hair pulled up into a bun as she loaded the clothes. She noticed him and smiled, tilting her head in question. “You okay, _mijo?”_

Lance nodded and bit his lip. “Yeah, I’m okay. Um, Beto wants us to go over to his place for a bit, I was wondering if that was okay? And if I could borrow the car?”

“What are you doing at Beto’s?” Lance shrugged, and it wasn’t until his mother had finished loading the laundry and the washer began spinning that she looked back at him with a hand on her hip. “You’re not forgetting your priorities, are you Lance?” she asked. “I know you care about that boy, but you can’t just forget about college. You said you were going back-”

“And I will. I’ve been working on scholarships and stuff. Emailing the school and professors. I even started a few applications to other universities too. I’m not ignoring it, Ma. I swear.”

She sighed and looked at him with a steady gaze. Then she nodded. “Be careful. Text me if anything.” She made the sign of the cross on him and kissed his cheek.

Lance hugged her and left. Outside, he saw Beto and Keith sitting on the steps. They heard him open the door and turned as he jingled the keys. “Let’s go,” he announced. Keith nodded, and he followed him to the car as Beto got into his own car. “Hey,” he said as Keith buckled himself in. “You’re sure about this? You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Lance. Really.” He smiled and Lance’s heart constricted at the sight of his healing wounds. He prayed this would work. He prayed he would be okay.

***

Beto’s place was cleaner than Lance expected it to be. He’d imagined the stale smell of beer and bottles and cans to litter the floor. But it actually smelled… clean. And there wasn’t a lot of furniture, but it seemed cozy enough. Beto led them to a small room that had a few exercise equipment that looked like it had never been touched.

“Where’d you get all this from?” Lance asked, eyeing the weights.

“A friend.” Beto pulled out some tape and gestured Keith over. “I know you ain’t gonna have tape when you gotta fight him, but this is practice. Gimme your hands.” Keith held out his hands and Lance watched as Beto wrapped the tape over his knuckles. “Alright, so number one rule, keep your eyes on him. I got that from Carlos. Don’t let them know they intimidate you or scare you.” Keith grit his teeth. “Eyes on mine, always.”

“That’s what got Carlos killed,” Lance muttered.

Beto glared at him. “Shut up, _primo,_ or you get kicked out.” Lance huffed and leaned against the wall. “Alright. So when he punches, what do you do?”

“I block my face,” Keith answered. Beto gestured for him to put his hands up. Keith brought his fists up, covering his face. “That’s like… rule one, right?”

“Yeah. But you doing it wrong.” Keith frowned and Beto swung, stopping his fist a centimeter away from Keith’s ear. “You’re out like a light. You gotta block the side of your head and your neck if you wanna be safe.” Beto repositioned Keith’s arms so his hands were interlocked at the back of his neck and his elbows were out. “Now, I can’t hit you there. And-” He faked a punch forward. “I’ll prob’ly hit your elbow which is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.” Keith nodded and sighed.

Before they continued, the doorbell rang and Beto gestured for Lance to answer the door. He left the room and opened the door to find Nina looking out at the street. “Hey,” he greeted.

She turned and smiled at him. “Hey!” She kissed his cheek and let herself in. “Where’s Beto?”

“Training room.”

“Is he finally using my brother’s equipment?” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and followed her as she walked back to the training room. “Roberto,” she sang. “Oh my,” she said, stepping back. “What happened to his face?” she asked, looking back at Lance.

Keith and Beto were busy with the “right” way to punch and the best places to punch. Lance took a breath and shook his head. “You can ask him when he’s done.” She furrowed her eyebrows and looked back at the practice. “So… how do you know Beto?” he asked.

Her lip twitched. “We met at a club. He was upset so I figured he could use someone to talk to.” She shrugged.

“Do you… like him?”

She looked over at him with a knowing smile and chuckled. “No, no. He’s a great guy, but it’s not like that.” She looked him over and raised an eyebrow. “So why exactly do you need a fake date?”

Lance groaned and tried to figure out how to explain without sounding like an idiot. “I sort of said I’d have one named Selena before I realized it was a bad idea since I don’t have a date.” She nodded and looked at Keith questioningly. “He… it’s complicated.” She hummed and crossed her arms, sitting on the bench press while she watched.

“Look, man, you gotta take all that fear and anger-”

“I’m not scared of him!”

“Then why do you feel trapped?” he snapped back. Keith scowled, his limbs shaking. “You’re scared, _‘ta bueno._ But you use that shit to be stronger. Put it into the punches, the blocking.” Keith glared at him, breathing heavily. “You pissed at me? Okay, then show it, pretty boy!”

Keith shouted angrily, punching the mat Beto was holding. Lance was fighting every instinct to intervene.

It went on for a while, watching Keith, bruised and scarred as he placed more strength into his punches until he was able to push Beto back against the wall with the mat. “Okay, okay, easy,” Beto said. “Lance!”

Lance moved immediately, pulling Keith back as he lunged forward, mumbling insults under his breath. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lance murmured, wrapping him in his arms. Keith was shaking. “You’re safe. He’s not here.” Keith screwed his eyes shut and leaned against Lance as though all of his energy had decided to leave him at once. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You did really well.” Lance looked over at Beto who came with a bottle of water.

“You’re strong, dude. You did good. Here.” Keith took the water and chugged it down. “Let’s find something to eat.” He gestured for them both to leave the room with Nina in front of them. When they reached the kitchen, Beto looked over at Nina. “So _chaparra,_ how’s Danny?”

“He’s good. Wondering when you’re stopping by again.” Beto looked over at her and snorted before tossing two cups of ramen at Lance and Keith. “So, your name’s Keith, right?” she asked, diverting her attention. Keith nodded. “And… you’re cool with me having to be Lance’s fake date and stuff?”

Keith looked at Lance and blushed. “Um, yeah. It’s cool.” He shrugged and filled his mouth with ramen noodles.

“So, um not to pry, but what’s the story here. You two dating or not or… what?” she asked, glancing at Beto then at Keith and Lance.

Lance looked over at Keith who was looking at his hands. Then he looked up and sighed. “I have a shitty boyfriend. But I like Lance. That’s about the gist.” She hummed and nodded, and if she had more questions she didn’t ask them. “Um, by the way, Lance…. Beto said I could stay here for a while. That way you don’t have to keep sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh. Okay,” he answered. He glanced up to see Beto and Nina mumbling about something. He turned to Keith and nudged him gently. “What are you going to tell your friends?”

“That I needed a break. And I left. And I crashed at a hotel.” He shrugged. “I’m not really worried about them.” He gave him a small smile and took his hand once they’d finished eating. “You should go home. I’ve stolen you away long enough.” Lance shook his head, but Keith gripped his hand. “It’s okay, really. I’m fine. Come on.” He stood up and Lance followed, waving at his cousin and Nina.

They stepped out to the heat again and Keith leaned against the door, shutting his eyes and taking a breath. “You know,” Keith sighed, “It feels good not to have to hide it. You guys don’t look at me like I’m a freak, or like I need pity. And it feels really good not to wear a jacket in this heat.”

Lance chuckled nervously and kicked at the ground. “Yeah.” He bit his lip and saw Keith looking at him with a questioning expression. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he thought. That Keith’s running wouldn’t be out of cowardice, but out of a need for survival. That he didn’t have to face that guy ever again.

Lance wanted so desperately to save Keith, but he knew Keith wasn’t one to be saved by anyone. And if Lance kept trying to convince him, he would end up pushing Keith away, and that was the last thing he wanted.

So instead of saying everything he feared and wished he could do for Keith, he only said, “Don’t push yourself too much. And come by my place to eat because you’re not living off of Maruchan for the next however many days. Got it?” Keith laughed and nodded.

Lance didn’t want to leave. And he knew Keith could tell. That was fine. “Can I ask you something?” Keith whispered. Lance hummed and let the tips of his fingers graze Keith’s. “You’ve got this hardcore stance on… cheating. And I get it, I do. Cheating is shitty.”

“But… why can’t I make an exception in your case?” Keith grimaced then nodded slowly, intertwining their fingers, like he was afraid the question would make Lance walk away from him. “The simple way to put it is…. I got cheated on. I hated how it felt, and I vowed never to be that guy in the future. And I want to stick to my personal promise because if I can’t trust myself to keep promises, then... I’m kind of fucked.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and took a deep breath as his soft, indigo eyes looked at Lance coolly. “Whoever had the audacity to cheat on Lance McClain is an absolute fucking idiot,” he said. Lance smirked and looked down to hide the severity of his blush. “Well, I hope that at least this is okay.” Before Lance could look up, Keith placed a hand on his cheek then kissed the other with slightly chapped lips for the briefest moment.

After managing to catch his breath, Lance chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He looked at Keith and tugged on a strand of hair that had fallen forward from his low ponytail. He leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly before smiling shyly. “I should get home.”

Keith nodded and smiled. “See you later, Lance from high school.”

Lance smiled at that and then left to return to his car.

\--

When he got home, his sisters were cleaning, but his mother and Jorge weren’t there. Daniela’s door was shut, so Lance figured she’d be in there with him, probably talking about his attitude lately. Lance planned to simply call in that he was back before stepping away.

Then he heard a piece of the argument.

“-special treatment! He just goes off whenever the hell he wants, and you don’t even do anything about it!”

“He’s a grown man, he’s been living on his own in college, it’s not like he lives under me anymore!” his mother shouted back, louder than Jorge in an attempt to get him to quiet down.

“He got kicked out of the stupid college! You and everyone else in this stupid family just focus on him! You have other kids you know? Maybe if you stopped fucking playing fa-”

There was a sharp smack and Lance put his hand to his mouth. His mother had never hit them. Sure, she gave Alexia or Emily a quick smack on the hand or their butts when they acted up, and even Lance himself had been subjected to _La Chancla_ as a child. But once they reached a certain age, the form of discipline sort of faded. Lance couldn’t remember the last time he was spanked, much less Jorge or Jackie. But there was no doubt in his head that the sound he’d heard was his mother slapping Jorge into silence.

“You do _not_ speak to me that way, young man. I didn’t raise you to be like this-”

“You barely even raised me,” he heard Jorge’s shaking voice respond. Then the door opened and Jorge slammed into Lance, his eyes wide, angry, and filled with tears. Lance’s eyes fell to the red mark on his cheek and the spit that left Jorge’s mouth as he tried to get a grip on his breaths. Jorge glared at him and pushed past, slamming himself in his room.

Lance felt sick to his stomach. He pushed the door open and found his mother on the edge of her bed, one hand at her mouth, the other shaking slightly as she stared at it. “Ma?” She looked at him with tears in her eyes and Lance felt like shit for having left at all. “What happened?”

She rubbed her face and shook her head. “He’s misbehaving so much, I don’t know what to do anymore. He keeps blaming it on different things, making excuses.”

“Misbehaving? The talking back, right? He’s a teen, Ma, that-”

“No, not just that,” she interrupted. “I didn’t tell you, because you were just about to come home from your finals in December.” Lance frowned and waited. “I had to babysit my boss’s grandkids. It was just one night. I left Jorge in charge, the girls asleep. Jackie called me around one saying that Alexia had gotten sick and she couldn’t find Jorge.” She sniffed, her lower lip trembling, more tears sliding over her cheeks. The sight made Lance’s stomach churn. “Mrs. Williams came home when I told her. I kept calling Jorge, but he didn’t answer. And then I got a call from the hospital. He’d taken something, wouldn’t tell me or the doctors what it was. He kept saying they put it in his drink, that he didn’t know.” She sighed and looked at the wall where she had a picture of the Virgen of Guadalupe. “He wasn’t supposed to be out in the first place! It’s not the last time I’ve caught him sneaking out, Lance. The way he talks to me sometimes… I swear he hates me.”

“No, Mami. Of course not. He’s just… being a reckless teenager. He’ll figure it out, okay? I’ll talk to him. I can handle him, I know how to keep him calm.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. “It’s alright, Mamita. Breathe.” He rubbed her shoulder and held her as she pulled herself together.

Once she had composed herself enough, she gripped his hand and left the room. Lance went to Jorge’s to see if he could find a way to talk to his brother and figure out what the hell was going on and what the hell had changed since Lance left.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response. “Jorge, it’s me. I just want to talk.”

“Fuck off,” a muffled voice answered.

“Jorge, come on. Just open the door. What happened with Mom?” No answer. “Jorge!”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Lance!”

“I’m gonna break down this fucking door, I swear.”

“Sounds to me like Keith has a thing for abusive assholes!”

That made Lance step back. The anger he felt made his entire body heat up. He heard a door open and found Jackie coming out from her room with a trash bag. “Seriously, just… it’s best if he’s left alone. He’ll leave the room like nothing happened in an hour. Don’t stress, bro.” She walked away and Lance sighed heavily, wondering once again when the hell his little brother had changed so much.

He wanted to blame it on adolescence, but… something in his bones told him that wasn’t true. And whatever that something was, it left a nasty, heavy feeling in his chest.

Lance managed to walk away from the door to help his sisters clean up before settling to watch a rerun of an old Mexican sitcom he used to love as a kid called _El Chavo del Ocho._ It was something they could all watch because Alexia understood it unlike SpongeBob where she just watched the movements and the colors with Emily. Surely enough, just as Jackie said, Jorge came out of his room an hour later. He didn’t acknowledge anyone, walked with his arms crossed as if he were making a point about still being angry, and scavenged the pantry for a snack.

Lance tried to catch his eye, but Jorge simply grabbed his snack and went right back to his room. The door didn’t slam, which Lance took as a good sign.

The sound of a car in the driveway made Lance peek through the windows. There was a nice black Escape parking along the curb, which confused Lance. Then he saw the familiar faces of Keith’s friends along with one unfamiliar. Another uncomfortable churn of his stomach.

“Jackie, stay with the girls. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just right here in the yard. I’ll explain in a bit okay? Don’t wake Ma up; she needs rest.” Jackie frowned and nodded as Lance left the house. “Hey,” he called out, meeting the group halfway.

The unfamiliar one, Lance assumed it was Michael, glanced past him into the house. He wasn’t anything like Lance had imagined. He was a scrawny guy, taller than Lance by about an inch or two, with floppy black hair. He looked like an average guy, a face easily forgotten in a crowd. He had incredibly green eyes though. The kind that changed in the light. But his features were soft, making him look younger.

The only thing that made Lance absolutely certain that this was Michael was the large bruise on one side of his face. He recalled Keith saying he’d hit him with a wok.

“Hey Lance,” Hunk said tiredly. “This is Michael. Keith’s boyfriend.” Lance looked at him, finding his green eyes on him already. There was something about them though that set Lance on edge. They were… detached. Almost empty. “Have you heard from Keith at all?”

Lance frowned and shook his head. “I already told Shiro I hadn’t.”

Michael growled and started for the door to the house. “Look, Keith- he has a habit of exaggerating. So if he’s hiding in the house-”

“I said, I haven’t heard from him,” Lance interrupted as he stepped in front of him and pushed him back, barely able to quell the anger in him. He had a face to go with the name now. He could picture Keith beside him. He could picture him happy in the beginning, then the change as Keith told him. And with this guy trying to discredit Keith in every way he could, all Lance wanted to do was throw everything in his face. “I don’t know who you think you are trying to barge into my house, but I have younger siblings that I don’t need you traumatizing.”

Something flashed in his eyes and Lance felt his mouth go dry. He noticed the clench of Michael’s fists, the flex of his arms, revealing that he did indeed have muscle despite the thin look.

“You’re hiding him,” he accused.

Lance scoffed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Okay, Michael chill. I know you’re worried, but Lance is a good guy,” Hunk said. “Lance, do you mind if I went in? Just to assure him that Keith isn’t in there.”

Shiro tensed, and Michael smirked as though he’d caught Lance in a lie. Then Lance said, “Yeah sure. I’ll go in with you so my sisters don’t get worried. My ma’s asleep though, so be quiet.” The smirk faltered and Michael kept his eyes on Lance as he retreated with Hunk.

He went inside and went to the kitchen, getting Hunk a drink if only to relax the expression on Jackie’s face. “Keith’s dating that guy?” Lance couldn’t help but scoff.

“He’s not usually this… abrasive. He’s just worried about Keith.”

Lance hummed and handed Hunk a glass of lemonade. “He’s not here. I don’t see how you can be more worried about Michael than Keith. If Keith ran off and can’t be found, don’t you think there’s a reason?”

“Shiro said that too,” Hunk sighed. “But… I don’t know, I mean look at Michael’s face.”

Lance clenched his jaw. “You’ve known Michael longer than Keith, huh?”

“I’m the one who introduced them.” Lance’s lips parted in shock. “Michael’s mom worked with mine since I was a kid. I only met Keith through Shiro when we’d group up.” Lance nodded, reminding himself that Hunk had no clue, he wasn’t to blame, he just didn’t know.

“I’ll tell you if I hear from him, okay?” Hunk nodded and left the house with Lance to meet back up with Shiro, Pidge, and Michael. “Drive safe.”

Michael left first, angrily revving the engine. Hunk and Pidge followed. Shiro looked at Lance and softly asked, “He’s not here?” Lance shook his head as discreetly as he could. “But he’s okay?”

“Safe,” he murmured without moving his lips much.

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed together and he nodded. “Tell him I’m here for him. Whatever the hell is going on, he can talk to me.” Lance nodded and Shiro walked back to the car which sped off smoothly as soon as he got in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know the thing with Dani and Jorge can come off as abuse in some cultures, but again it's a cultural difference. This is like... common level. And even so, I made it much like my household where after a certain age the physical punishment goes away. 
> 
> I mean, my point is, I'm not trying to paint Dani to be an abusive mom. Everything will be explained in future chapters and I'm hoping that you as readers can see the difference between Dani and Michael. PLEASE don't put them in the same category. 
> 
> Leave any comments for clarifications, questions, or just to let me know if you enjoy the story! I read them all and do my best to answer each uniquely.


	9. Chapter 9

The Fourth of July barbecue was supposed to be the coming weekend after Keith’s “disappearance.”

Lance had called Beto and asked to talk to Keith shortly after the group had stopped by his house. Keith’s voice had become sharper despite Lance assuring him that nothing had happened. Keith had gotten in touch with Shiro through Lance the next day and assured him he was okay, but never told what had truly happened. He just kept repeating that he could handle it. Lance went over to Beto’s once more during the week and Keith had still been training. His cuts had healed, but were still very visible. His bruises had diminished enough that Nina could cover them with makeup.

Things at home had become routine again. Daniela would leave for work around nine, Lance would sit and watch cartoons with Emily and Alexia while Jackie and Jorge slept in, he’d make them a quick lunch, before going to help Tia Carla at the restaurant, and then return home at the same time as his mom. Jorge only left his room to eat, and even then would walk out with headphones, refusing to talk. The only time he acknowledged Lance was to let him know he’d watch the girls with Jackie while he worked.

That Friday, Papo and Buela had come over for dinner. He was still gruff and tense, but he was making conversation with Lance. They simply talked about everything except Keith and Lance’s sexuality. As much as it bothered Lance that they danced around it, seemed to want to pretend none of it had happened at all, he also knew that his grandparents had been raised completely different from him. And at their age, it would be near impossible to convince them to think more modernly. He didn’t want to keep arguing with them. For now, he would accept this much.

When Saturday night finally came around, Jorge had gone out with friends, Jackie had gone to see a movie with friends, and Lance had his barbecue. His mother was fine with staying home with the youngest girls, but she did give them each a curfew. Lance would be allowed home the latest, of course, and if any of them had trouble getting home or would be late, she expected a call.

Lance drove over to Beto’s where he was supposed to meet up with Keith and Nina.

Nina looked ridiculously beautiful with her tight curls and simple outfit of jean shorts and a crop top. She had the lithe body of a dancer. She had a natural beauty to her, and now that she had on some makeup, every pretty feature seemed to be enhanced.

Lance couldn’t help but gawk, and could only manage to shut his mouth when Keith jabbed an elbow into his rib. Lance blushed and apologized, but Keith only rolled his eyes.

Keith looked good too. He seemed emotionally and mentally better than he had a week ago, and it seemed to affect him physically too. He had on a thin black, long-sleeved shirt with torn black jeans and boots. The black on black was just something that Lance was always weak for, and had he topped it off with a leather jacket, Lance would’ve fainted right there. It was almost unfair that there were such beautiful people in the world.

And Lance got to go to this party with both of them.

“Okay, so I’m supposed to play your date, right? So flirty and stuff?”

Lance shrugged. “I mean, if you want. I just said I had a date. Whether you want to seem interested is your choice.”

“Don’t forget, your name is _Selena_ tonight,” Keith added from the backseat.

“Her song was on!” Lance whined. “Whatever. Yeah, it’s Selena.”

Nina chuckled and nodded. “Okay. Well, we wanna make you look good, so I’ll pretend I’m into you too. Oh, and Keith, we can have like a little sign. So I know if I should reign it in or if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Lance glanced up at the rearview to gauge his reaction. Keith was blushing, that much he could tell. “Um, yeah. Sure,” he answered. “I mean, I don’t really think…. Um. Okay well, what kind of sign?”

“I dunno. Like… rub your nose or a code word.”

“I can just text you.”

“That works!”

Lance chuckled to himself and shook his head. “On another note…. Keith?” His violet eyes glanced up to meet Lance’s in the rearview. “You gonna be okay?”

He nodded, his expression absolute. “I’ve got this. I’m done running.” Lance nodded and looked back at the road, biting his tongue. A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’ll be okay, Lance. Really.”

Every fiber of his being was telling Lance to make a U-turn and suggest a night in with movies and popcorn instead. But this wasn’t his battle. And knowing Keith, he’d find a way here anyway. As he pulled in to Shiro’s, he saw the familiar figures of Keith’s friends, as well as Allura. He didn’t see Michael, but he wasn’t that close.

“You guys go first. I don’t want them to know you were hiding me.” Lance sighed and nodded.

“If anything happens, or if you just want to go-”

Keith lurched forward to grab Lance by the shoulders. “Lance. Please relax.” He let his hands slip until he was holding Lance’s. “I’ve thought of every possible thing that could happen tonight, and I’m prepared.”

“I just don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish here. What’s the point of showing up at a party?”

“He won’t do anything to me here.” His eyes flitted to Nina who pretended to be busy on her phone. “It’ll give him time to cool off. I’ll go home and get my stuff and I’ll break up with him. I’ll be able to defend myself, I’ll get back to Beto’s, and… I’ll be okay.” He shrugged. “If we’re lucky he won’t even come here.”

Lance still didn’t feel good about this. Going to a party felt like the most ridiculous thing to do after everything. Still, he knew Keith also missed his friends. They hadn’t heard from him for a long time either.

Suddenly, Lance felt Keith’s lips on his cheek. “Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are. But I have to do this. With or without you.”

Lance rolled his eyes. He knew that much about Keith; he was a stubborn guy that didn’t back down because something was hard. “I know. So I’d rather be here as it is.”

“Good. Now let’s go have some fun, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Nina.” She looked over with a raised eyebrow. “Make him look good,” he said with a smirk. She smiled and gave him a fist bump.

“Pft, I always look good,” Lance muttered as he got out of the car. “I’ll lock it once you get over there.” Keith nodded and sat back as Lance and Nina walked over to the others. Nina wrapped her arm around his middle and moved Lance’s hand to rest across her shoulders.

As they approached the grill, the other’s smiled and greeted him. Hunk hugged him then shook Nina’s hand. “You’re Selena, right?” Lance fought the urge to grimace. Nina nodded. “I’m Hunk. It’s great to meet you. This is Katie. We call her Pidge. That’s Shiro, and that’s Allura. You guys want a beer?”

“I’ll take a Corona,” she answered.

“I’m good,” Lance said. He looked at Pidge who was tossing back a can of beer. “Why are you drinking?”

She raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Dude, I’m 17.”

Lance’s eyes went wide and bit his lip. “Holy shit, I thought you were like, 12 or something.”

She grimaced. “Yeah I get that a lot. Hunk, bring me another, please!” she called over her shoulder. “Oh, here’s some fold out chairs.”

Lance thanked her and sat down. He expected Nina to sit in the other, but she sat in his lap instead, which made Lance blush. He took a moment to regain his composure. “Have you guys heard from Keith?” he asked.

“No. We’re hoping he’ll show up tonight. I keep telling Shiro to file a missing person’s, but he says Keith will come back when he’s ready. Michael has just about torn up their place trying to get a clue on finding him.”

Nina decided to play dumb and asked, “Who’s Keith? Did he run away?”

“He’s our friend,” Hunk said, coming back with the drinks. “Yeah he… sort of did.”

“Why?”

Everyone shared a look. “We’re not entirely sure,” Hunk finally said.

“Well, people usually run away from something. That might be important to know if you want him to come back.” She shrugged innocently and wrapped her arms around Lance’s neck, leaning her head on his shoulder. Lance tried not to squirm.

Before long, Allura and Pidge started a conversation with Nina while Shiro flipped some pieces of sweet-smelling ribs that Hunk had prepared. Hunk sat with them, occasionally helping Shiro.

“Lance, how did you meet Selena?”

Lance stared at Allura, opened mouthed and racked his brain. He never thought to think up stories, and now he wasn’t sure what to say.

Thankfully, Nina came to the rescue. “Lance, don’t be so shy,” she giggled. “He was in the female hygiene aisle at the store. He looked so lost, I went to ask if he needed help. He was buying some stuff for his sister since she’s really shy about it.” Pidge and Allura hummed, sharing a look like they knew exactly what Nina was talking about. “It was so sweet, I couldn’t help but keep talking to him. I kept implying I wanted his number, but he didn’t get it.”

“Oh God, Lance,” Allura chuckled good-naturedly.

Lance managed a chuckle and laughed. “Hey, she’s here with me now, isn’t she? I had enough charm to get this far.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hunk laughed.

“Oh my God.” Shiro’s tongs clattered, and everyone looked over to see what had distraught him.

Keith was walking up, hands shoved in his pockets and a shy smile on his face. “Hey, everyone.”

Shiro was the first one to pull him into a hug. Keith looked surprised, but he managed a soft chuckle. The others followed suit, even Lance.

“Dude where the hell have you been? We were worried sick,” Pidge said. “You could have called us or something!”

“I had some stuff to figure out.”

“Michael’s been looking all over for you,” Hunk said gently.

Keith’s expression soured. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

That made the others hesitate and share looks with each other as Keith grabbed a beer. He looked at Nina and said, “Lance, you’re being rude. Who’s the lovely lady?”

Lance sputtered and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, this is- Selena. She’s my…. Um.”

Nina nudged him and took his hand. “You could say girlfriend if you just asked,” she said, scooting closer to him.

The others whooped and egged him on, but Lance was looking at Keith, gauging his reaction. Keith simply smirked, raising his eyebrows, as if to say _What are you waiting for, doofus?_

Lance chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Girlfriend…. If that’s cool?” It was a question directed at Keith. He smiled a little wider and winked so quickly, Lance wasn’t sure if it was just a twitch.

Nina threw her arms around Lance and giggled. “Of course it is.” She turned his head, hand at his cheek and brought him down. Lance panicked, certain that a kiss was much too far. Then he realized there was a thumb between their lips. Nina had place her hand so it looked like a normal kiss and allowed her thumb to intervene just before their lips met. Her head was tilted slightly so the others couldn’t tell, but they were too busy laughing and whooping and applauding anyway.

She pulled back and they sat back down. Lance saw Nina pull out her phone, typing a quick text.

_No worries it was fake! Stage-kiss w/ thumb._

He glanced at Keith who was at the grill by Shiro. He noticed him check his phone and shake his head. A new message appeared on Nina’s screen.

_Lol its cool. Ur doing great. So cute together ;))_

Lance rolled his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

After a while, Lance started feeling more comfortable. He wasn’t so tense. There was no sign of Michael, Nina had easily assimilated to the group, Keith and Nina communicated over text and he didn’t seem bothered by the façade at all (though he did ask she refrain from kissing his cheek because that was their thing), and Lance even felt like this wasn’t a group of people he’d only met a few weeks ago. It was so easy, so fun, so silly.

Although they drank, no one was getting stupid drunk, the food was fucking delicious and not at all what Lance was accustomed to which made it fun. They even got in the pool, though Keith stayed out, claiming to keep Pidge, who was the only other person who didn’t want to get in, company.

Then the sound of a revving engine turned everyone’s attention to the driveway. Lance noticed Keith tense. Nina touched his shoulder gently, questioningly. A figure walked over, and it wasn’t long before Lance recognized Michael.

“Who called him?” Allura whispered.

“I didn’t,” Hunk swore. Shiro shook his head. Pidge glanced at Keith, a worried furrow in her eyebrows. At least, Lance thought, his friends seemed to be catching on.

“So none of you thought to tell me that my boyfriend came back?” he spat. He turned to face Keith and sighed, walking over to him, pulling him up. “Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? Where were you? It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” His hands cupped his face and Lance’s stomach lurched as he watched Michael pull Keith into a kiss. Every word dripped with fake sincerity, and it made Lance’s hands shake angrily.

Nina’s hand gripped one of his, squeezing, reminding him to calm down.

“Michael, man, let me get you some food, yeah?” Hunk said as he got out of the pool. Michael wrapped an arm around Keith and followed Hunk. But it was… strange. He walked slightly ahead of Keith, making the gesture seem more controlling than loving. Keith had yet to say a word.

Pidge neared the pool and sighed. “Keith messaged him. He asked for my phone and sent him a text a while ago.”

“Then maybe he wasn’t running from Michael?” Allura whispered. Lance noticed Shiro look over at him, but Lance was busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that Keith had been the one to ask Michael to arrive. He gulped and took a breath to steady himself.

“Let’s get out of the pool. At least be sure Keith’s alright,” Shiro said. They regrouped at the lawn chairs. Nina sat on Lance’s lap again, and this time he was grateful for it. It kept him from standing and trying to get Keith away from the manipulative fuck across from him.

It was sickening to watch Michael treat Keith like he gave a shit, like he hadn’t been the one who had injured Keith so badly, he was nearly unrecognizable. Just remembering the night Lance had picked him up made him have to shut his eyes a few times to calm down. This was not his fight.

He wasn’t sure what Keith was trying to do. He hadn’t smiled or spoken to the others yet. But he allowed Michael to hold his hand and answered his questions in whispers, his lips barely moving, and didn’t seem to be anxious to move away. His eyes flitted to Lance now and then, guarded and levelled.

It wasn’t until Shiro suggested they start setting up fireworks that Lance noticed anything wrong.

The group had gone to the front of the house to set up fireworks in the street. Lance had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and when he was on his way back, he found Michael and Keith near the cooler of drinks.

With the music shut off and the earlier conversations farther away, Lance could understand more on what they were saying.

“With a friend.”

“Who?” Keith remained quiet and Michael gripped his arm tightly enough to yank him forward. “ _Who?_ That scrawny little shit with the beard? He can’t fool me, I know he wants you. I know-”

“Jesus, would you shut the fuck-”

Michael’s swing happened quicker than Lance could process, making Keith cower back with a hand at his cheek. He’d managed a grip on Keith’s neck, forcing him back against the tool shed.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from him,” Lance shouted, moving forward. He didn’t care if this wasn’t his business. Keith wouldn’t keep getting hurt.

Suddenly Keith kicked out and Michael buckled, letting Keith drop to the floor. He scrambled away and tried to push Lance back. “Lance, stay out of it, please.”

Michael yanked him back and eyed Lance. “You heard him, puppy. Stay out of things that don’t concern you.”

“Listen, you piece of shit-”

Keith shook himself free and stepped forward, hands on Lance’s chest. “Please, just let it go. I’ve got this.” Lance looked at him in shock, but Keith’s expression was resolute.

“No. No, he’s just going to keep hurting you. You don’t deserve this shit, Keith.” He placed his hands on his arms tugging gently, begging him to get away. “Come on-”

Suddenly there was a hand on Lance’s wrist, twisting his arm in a way that made Lance scream as he pulled away. “Didn’t Mommy teach you to keep your hands off other people’s things,” he snarled, shoving Keith back with one hand.

Lance felt his vision go red. This asshole didn’t even see Keith as a person. He was a _thing._ An object. For Michael, Keith was something he owned, something he could do whatever he wanted to with no regards for Keith. He wasn’t trying to keep his boyfriend to himself, he was trying to keep a plaything. He dehumanized Keith and still had the guts to pretend like he was a caring boyfriend in front of everyone else.

Lance wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on the ground with this guy, swinging without any technique, grasping at his clothes to maneuver his way around. He couldn’t even feel the impact of the hits he was given or the ones he gave. Everything was muted and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, all he felt was the shaking numbness coursing through his limbs.

It wasn’t until he felt a solid punch in the nose that he became vaguely aware of screaming and a ringing in his ears.

Suddenly Michael was hauled off of him and Lance felt someone pull him up into a sitting position. He was vaguely aware of Nina asking him if he was okay. He hauled himself up to stand and his eyes finally found Keith.

He was straddling Michael, hitting him over and over again, but there were tears streaking his face. Shiro managed to pull him back, but he was still struggling to land a hit. “No more. No more!” Keith shouted after him. “I’m done. I’m done letting you push me around.” He turned to his friends, looking afraid. Until his eyes fell on Lance. “You guys wanna know why I ran off?” He pulled off his shirt and stood up. Lance saw Allura and Pidge gasp as the leftover scars from Keith’s injuries were exposed. “This is why,” he croaked. “Because he did this to me. Because this piece of shit spends his free time whipping me, beating me until I can’t move and then pretending that _I’m_ the psychopath! Because he’s nearly fucking killed me because I wanted to break up with him. Because every time he comes to ‘visit,’ he’s just finding excuses to beat me and it’s never enough for him.”

Michael started for him. “Keith, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Hunk stepped in front of him. “You need to go,” he growled. “Now.”

“Hunk, come on, you know me.”

Hunk shook his head, eyes filled with disgust. Lance scrambled over to Keith, pulling him into his arms. He was shaking so much, that Nina had to help Lance lift him up off the ground. Shiro and Hunk managed to get Michael to leave. Pidge and Allura each brought ice for Lance and tissues for Keith. Hunk and Shiro returned, staying close but wordless.

Only Lance talked, holding Keith close, assuring him he was okay. Keith touched his new injuries lightly, eyes filled with horror, but Lance took his hand and assured him he was fine.

“Wanna go home?” Nina whispered. Keith nodded, still shaking, eyes on the floor.

Hunk touched Keith’s wrist gently to stop him. “Keith…. I’m so sorry. I’m so-” Hunk burst into tears, and it wasn’t a sight Lance ever wanted to see again. “It’s my fault, Keith. I should’ve never-”

“No it’s not,” Keith answered, sounding appalled. His voice was hoarse. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t know. You didn’t do anything.” Hunk shook his head and engulfed Keith in a hug, apologizing over and over.

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s give Keith some time to breathe and rest. Lance, do you mind taking us wherever he’s staying tomorrow? I think we should all talk, if that’s okay, Keith.” Keith nodded and wiped his face.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m gonna get them back though.”

The three of them walked back to the car and they drove over to Beto’s. As soon as the door opened, Beto’s eyes widened. “Shit, cuz what happened to your face?” he yelped. “ _Puta madre,_ the hell did you do?”

“He fought Keith’s ex,” Nina supplied.

“Ex?” Keith nodded and offered a small smile. Beto smiled and nodded. “Good.” He looked at Nina and gestured over to the couch. “Danny’s here by the way.”

Her eyes lit up and she walked over to the couch. “ _Manito!”_

Beto looked back at Keith and Lance. “I wanna ask, but you look like you could use some rest, _vato.”_ Keith nodded again and Beto gestured over to the hallway.

Lance walked with Keith to the room he was staying in. There was an inflatable mattress on the floor and a few worn boxes across the room. It looked like Beto had been using it for meaningless storage and stuffed a bed in it. Which he probably had.

“Could you… stay for a bit?” Keith whispered. Lance nodded and followed him to the inflatable bed, careful when he sat. “You’re an idiot, you know?” Lance blinked and looked over at him. There was a smile on his face, which told him he didn’t mean it maliciously. “You shouldn’t have fought him. But I don’t think I’d have gotten the guts to tell the truth if you hadn’t.” He sniffed and leaned onto Lance’s shoulder.

“Pidge said you messaged him.”

Keith nodded. “I wanted him to be there. I wanted to confront him. I wanted to be able to break up with him tonight.” He gulped and seemed to struggle to breathe. “Stay with me. Please.”

“Of course,” Lance murmured. Keith pulled him so they laid on the bed, facing each other, draped with a soft, black blanket. “You’re safe, Keith.”

Keith nodded and took a breath as he shut his eyes. Lance fell asleep rubbing circles into his back.

He woke up when Keith jerked in his arms and sat up gasping. Lance sat up, but Keith panicked and backed away from him, plopping onto the ground, tugging the blanket with him.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey!” Lance whispered. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Keith took a moment to take in his surroundings and nodded. “Let’s go get some air, yeah?” Again Keith nodded. He followed Lance out of the room, their hands intertwined. The apartment was dark. Beto was asleep. Nina and the other boy, Danny, must have gone home. Lance opened the door to the patio and let Keith go first. They were still in the clothes they’d taken to the barbecue.

Keith leaned his arms on the railing and ran a hand through his hair. “I had a nightmare. He’d come to find me. Kept saying he’d kill me…. Hit me and tossed me down the stairs.” Lance shivered because even if it was just a nightmare, it could very well be a reality. “I don’t… really know what to do anymore,” he whispered. “For a long time, I was just focused on finding a way out. Now that I did… what am I supposed to do? Where do I go? Where can I go that he won’t find me? What if he sees me with you and tries to hurt you again?”

Lance walked over to him and turned him away from the street to face him. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ll take it one step at a time. Right now though, you’re free.”

Keith blinked and a slow smile began to spread on his face. “Free,” he repeated. “How do you say that in Spanish?”

“ _Libre.”_ Keith hummed. “You want to learn a few more? Get your mind off of things?” Keith took a breath and nodded. Lance began reciting one of his favorite songs as a child. “ _Pollito-_ chicken. _Gallina-_ hen. _Lápiz-_ pencil. _Pluma-”_

Keith started laughing and he tilted his head. “Are you teaching me or singing to me?”

Lance rolled his eyes and interlocked their hands. “Okay, okay. These are simple, you’ve learned them before. Let’s see if you remember. _Ventana._ ”

“Window,” Keith answered.

“ _Puerta.”_

“Door.”

_“Maestro.”_

He paused and grimaced. “Something….”

Lance snorted and moved on. “ _Y piso?”_

“Mm… floor.”

Lance nodded and smiled. “Three out of four. You passed. Wanna learn more?” Keith nodded, looking into his eyes with his own smile. He looked so… unreal in the moonlight. His black clothes and hair struggled to distinguish themselves from the night, but his eyes shone. It was like he was looking at his own personal galaxy. Lance recalled the day before, how small he seemed under Michael’s grasp, how distraught he’d been when he’d finally exposed Michael for what he was. “ _Calor_ is heat. _Azul_ is blue…. _Dolor_ is pain.”

Keith bit his lip, his eyes returning to the street. “What about to say, ‘hug me?’”

“ _Abrázame.”_ Keith nodded and repeated it as he slipped his hands around Lance. Biting his lip, Lance hugged him back, holding him tightly.

“Hey, Lance?” He hummed, rocking gently on his feet so they swayed as they hugged. “How do you say ‘kiss me?’”

Lance gulped and pulled his head back, arms still around him. He looked at Keith, and even in the moonlight he could tell he was blushing. “ _Bésame,”_ he whispered.

“Well, if you insist,” Keith said with a smirk. His hands slid behind Lance neck and pulled him forward.

It was simple. Their lips pressed together, eyes shut. Lance felt his entire body spark, the adrenaline stronger than what he’d felt during the fight. He was so distracted by what the kiss caused his heart to do, that he wasn’t even paying attention to the kiss itself.

Not until Keith pulled back enough to make the air feel cold on their lips and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. Can you at least kiss me like you mean it?” Lance chuckled and cupped his face before pulling him into a kiss far more fervid than their first.

Everything about it was new and clumsy and beautiful. Lance hadn’t kissed someone like this in a long time. He tilted his head, drowning in the bliss he felt as their lips clashed, as he gasped for air between the moments of biting Keith’s lips and tasting his mouth. He pressed himself closer, wanting to be completely enveloped in the warmth of Keith’s being.

He didn’t miss the small moan that reverberated from Keith’s throat to his lips. He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed him. Even as the kiss ended, it ended in several smaller kisses, like neither of them really wanted to stop- which they didn’t.

“Whoa,” Keith breathed, looking at him with flushed cheeks, glistening lips, and dazed eyes. He was beautiful. “That was worth the wait.” Lance smiled widely, bumping their noses together. “I want to stay in this moment. Right now. When it’s the middle of the night and everyone’s asleep and no one gives a shit whether we kiss or not and I’m not scared and it’s just us.”

“I’ll kiss you when the sun rises,” Lance whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone where, a week ago, there had been a dark purple bruise. “And as it moves across the sky.” He kissed the corner of his lip, where there was a fading scar. “And when it sets again.” He kissed his jaw which had sported a yellowed bruise just a few days ago still. “And all through the night. For as long as you want me to.”

Keith laughed, his hands playing with Lance’s hair. “Wow. You’re a total romantic, aren’t you?” Lance stuck his tongue out at him, but Keith simply took him by the chin and kissed him. “I don’t care what happens or who cares about us once the sun rises. As long as you’re with me.”

Lance smiled, responding with another, softer kiss. “ _Te lo prometo._ ”

\--

Lance and Keith had returned to the air mattress after a few more kisses in the summer night heat. Even as they laid down, they were pressing lazy kisses to whatever skin they could touch- a nose, the bow of a lip, fingers, knuckles, a forehead.

Lance had fallen asleep to those kisses and he couldn’t imagine a better way.

But he had woken up to a harsh opening of the door. “Dude, what the hell?” He sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily as Keith sat up with a gasp. “ _Pendejo,_ your _jefa’s_ been calling me since like four in the morning.”

“Wh- Oh _fuck._ ” He patted his pockets for his phone but came up empty. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He scrambled out of the bed, confused when he saw some guy sitting at the table with a coffee, scrolling through his phone. But he didn’t have time for introductions. He dashed to his car, fumbling and searching. He found his phone in the space between the door and the driver’s seat. It had five percent left, and he found ten missed calls from his mom and a few from Jackie. He looked at the text previews.

Mami: _Call me. Now. (2)_

Jackie: _Mom’s pissed where the hell are…. (3)_

“Fuck,” he breathed. He tried to send a text back, but halfway through, the phone shut off. He went back inside and gratefully took a cup of juice from Beto. “I’m so fucked, man. I totally forgot to call her. Shit.”

“You needa go home, _menso._ ” He grabbed Lance’s keys and tossed them over. “She’s gonna freak when she sees your face, _todo puteado.”_

“Beto, you gonna introduce me or not?” came the voice from the dining table.

Beto sighed and gestured. “This is my cousin Lance. That’s Nina’s brother, Danny.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Lance said. “Where’s Keith?”

“Over here,” he yawned from the couch. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain to my mom, it’ll be fine. I’ll call later, okay?”

Keith nodded, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he leaned up to kiss him. “Be careful.” Lance nodded and smiled, a little of the panic simmering down at Keith’s touch.

Lance walked toward the door and Beto followed after him. “Someone got busy last night,” he chuckled.

“Nah, it’s not like that,” Lance said. “Just made out.” Beto snorted. “Whatever I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Beto laughed and clapped him on the back. “Whatever you say, _primo._ Let me know if you die because of Tia Dani.” Lance rolled his eyes and got in his car.

As he parked the car in front of the house, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. All he’d needed to do was call. Instead, he let his mother worry for the entire night. He got out and went into the house. His brother, sisters, and mom were all in the living room.

“Jackie, take the girls,” Daniela said, eyes locked on Lance. Jackie sighed and took Emily and Alexia by the hand to the backyard. Daniela stood up and walked over to Lance. “ _Donde chingados estabas?”_

“Ma, I know I should’ve called, but Keith-”

She held up her hand to silence him. “No. I’m done hearing your excuses, _carajo._ You listen to me. I gave you one simple rule- _call if you’re late._ And what do you do? You stay out the whole damn night without ever once thinking to call or send a text!”

“I forg-”

“ _Estoy hablando yo, cállate.”_ She fixed him with an angry expression. “Do you realize how hard it is for me to raise five kids on my own? _Primero tu,_ ” she said, looking at Jorge. “Going off to parties and getting drugged up. Then you start talking back and shutting us out.” Jorge rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “And you!” Lance grimaced as she pointed at him. “You drop out of college, and you hide it for months! Instead of coming to your family like you should! Don’t you realize we’re here to help? _Y pa’ acabarla de joder,_ you come back saying you’re figuring out a way back in, but all you’ve been doing is going after this boy. All night, Lance! You were gone all night! I didn’t know if you got in an accident, or if there was a drive by, or if you’d decided to just run away-”

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Ma.”

“Do I? Because I’m starting to feel like I don’t know either of you.” Lance took a sharp breath and clenched his jaw. “Since when do you disappear and come back with a black eye? Now what the hell happened to your face?”

Lance sighed and swallowed. “I got in a fight with Keith’s boyf- um, ex-boyfriend.”

His mother stared at him with no expression, and it was honestly terrifying. His mother was a woman of expression. Anger, joy, sadness, it was all easily discerned on Daniela’s face. Now though she seemed completely void of any emotion. And then-

“You are not to see that boy again.”

“Mom!”

“Not until you get your shit together and show me that you’ve either been accepted to start college again or you have an actual full-time job!” she shouted over him. “Jorge thinks I favor you. Really, I just thought you were an adult and capable of handling yourself. You proved me wrong, _mijo.”_

Jorge snickered and she turned to him. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for your friend to drive you back here with you stumbling over yourself? _Hijo de la chingada, ya me tienes hasta aqui!_ You are grounded! No phone, no more parties.”

“Oh, please, how do you plan to do that? You’re barely even here,” Jorge answered.

“Because I’m working my ass off!” she snapped back. “I’m getting your buela to come watch you and if you give her a hard time, so help me I will look into the military school those people on TV always talk about.”

Jorge looked tired and annoyed. “Whatever.” He got up and went to his room, slamming the door for good measure.

“I can’t look at you right now. Go.” Lance wanted to stay. To explain himself, to talk to his mother. But he knew she wasn’t in the mood for it. And she was kind of right. Lately, Lance had completely forgotten about reapplying to schools. He was so panicked about the stupid party. He started for his room, but she stopped him. “Ah-ah. Phone. You don’t seem to use it anyway.” It felt so juvenile, and after so long on his own, Lance felt ridiculous giving into his mother’s child punishments. But he did anyway.

He went to his room and paced around, looking at the posters on the wall and the books on a shelf. He opened his computer and sighed, as he started redrafting a letter to the admissions team at his college. He looked into applying to others as well. He found himself looking into the community college and U of H, despite not applying there originally.

It wasn’t that these were bad schools. It’s the fact that his goal had always been to get the hell out. To leave Houston and make something of himself like his buela said he would. He’d worked so hard, purposefully avoiding applications to Houston universities to ensure he got away. He loved his family, but he needed to figure who he was. He needed to be on his own.

Lot of good it did him in the end.

The only thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was looking into applying now. Was it to stay with his family for help? Or for Keith…? Could he live with himself if he stayed?


End file.
